#so the sparks are on the same color layer as everything else

[redbootsindoriath]

An old drawing of the Amrod and Amras. I stopped working on it because I didn't like how the horses were looking but I think it still is an interesting concept and maybe someday I'll revisit it.

[manonssunset]

"COSA NUESTRA"

pairing: kim minjeong x fem!reader

synopsis: minjeong, a regular like you at the jazz lounge, decided to challenge you, unaware of what was about to unfold.

part 1 ○ part 2 [coming soon]

warnings/tags: language, suggestive, the story takes place in 1978, ending hints at nsfw content, minjeong is wearing the same outfit as the photo, heavy sexual tension, reader is kinda nonchalant help

wc: +2,5k

now playing: cosa nuestra - rauw alejandro

a/n: I was heavily inspired by my man's new album, I literally fell in love with the retro/1970 vibes, and also, minjeong in that outfit made me lose my mind. in this fic, I describe pool dynamics using specific terms. if you need some clarifications, I made a post with what everything means.

The warmth of the lounge atmosphere was a great contrast to the typical november cold weather, an atmosphere you were quite used to: young beautiful women dancing to the band’s jazz melodies, swaying their bodies to the rhythm, their partners chattering and laughing while clouding the room up with a thin layer of smoke. you passed the pool tables, the unmistakable sound of the billiard balls colliding and cristal glass clinking filling the air. you slid through the crowd and found your way to the bar, taking a seat on one of the black leather stools. 

“excuse me, could you pass me the newspaper ma'am?” you requested the gentlewoman sitting beside you, noticing the pile of papers stacked neatly in front of her. saying she was beautiful was an understatement, she looked sharp in the suit she was wearing, her tie perfectly knotted, and her vest hugged her waist deliciously. she was a regular just like you, you’d seen her before, but you’d always kept your distance, never quite summoning the courage to strike up a conversation.

she turned towards you, offering a timid smile. a shade of pink colored her cheeks, probably caused by the alcoholic liquid she was drinking. she answered “absolutely, here you go, ma'am”, extending the arm that wasn't holding the glass to grab the newspaper and handing it to you. your eyes met each other, and it felt like a spark had just been ignited between the two. 

“thank you so much.” you thanked her, smiling back. your heart beating faster, this was your opportunity to get to know her, you had to quickly think about something else to say before the conversation could end. 

“it's my pleasure,” she said softly, fixing a strand of hair behind her ear. “the pleasure is mine… may I ask your name, madam? it's not the first time I've seen you here.” you didn't know where this confidence came from but you sighed in relief when her face cutely lit up at the sudden question, her already pink cheeks turning a deeper shade of red. 

“no I don't mind, it's minjeong, nice to meet you.” she replied, shaking your hand, the soft grip lingering longer than expected, leaving you wanting more. you greeted her back, introducing yourself, settling into a comfortable conversation with the girl, getting to know each other, the newspaper long forgotten. 

“I've seen you play pool before, you're good, but I don't think you can beat me.” she suddenly challenged you, a smirk appearing on her face as she eyed you expectantly, knowing that you wouldn't let someone you just met belittle your skills like that.

“oh, you think you can beat me ma'am?” she was still giggling and repeating herself, stating that she was indeed able to win against you.

a wicked idea formed into your mind, you chuckled slightly before speaking “okay, since you're so sure you can defeat me, let’s make a deal. if you win, I'll let you do whatever you want to me, if you don't, it's the other way around, huh?”. when she grasped what you were insinuating, the face minjeong made was priceless, her smile suddenly dropped and her teasing demeanor quickly faded. you caught with your peripheral view her thighs press tightly together, sensing her newfound feeling of mixed fear and excitement. “s-sure,” she slightly stuttered.

as you two stood up to move to one of the pool tables, you realized how tiny minjeong was, not that you were the tallest or the most muscular but she just looked so easy to manhandle. and, unsurprisingly, you weren’t the only one affected by the size difference, the other girl unconsciously gulped when she had to look up to meet your gaze. “how do we determine who breaks?” she asked, grabbing a cue from the stand.

“well, since you decided to challenge me, I think it’s fair if you start, don’t you agree?” you responded, sliding your long black coat off your shoulders, hanging it to the wall, remaining in your three-piece suit. as you grabbed a cue and the triangle to rack the balls, minjeong nodded affirmatively, her eyes following your every move, exhaling through her nose and mentally preparing herself before starting the match.       

you watched her get in position, sliding the cue between her fingers, hand placed on the table, aiming at the center, taking a deep breath and shooting. a loud thud was heard and the colorful balls started rolling around on the play field, bouncing on the bumpers. it was an impressive start, she managed to pot three striped balls, the decision of the group a predictable and easy task, the advantage she had was clear.

however, that was what an inexperienced person would have thought, minjeong being the example. a more acute observation would have made her realize that choosing to pot another striped ball was going to be her downfall. sure, she was in the lead with only three balls left to pot, meanwhile you still had all seven, but the disposition made reaching the remaining spheres almost impossible. you couldn't help but smile to yourself seeing her concerned face as she realized the challenging situation she had put herself into. 

minjeong adjusted her stance, her brows furrowing in concentration. she leaned over the table, eyes narrowing as she calculated the angle. The cue hovered over the white ball, but she hesitated. her fingers trembled slightly, and she repositioned herself, then again, a growing uncertainty flickering in her movements. a bead of sweat gathered at her temple. the tension in her posture deepened. you could sense the change, the pressure of the game was getting to her. every small shift in her stance seemed to reflect her internal struggle.

you stayed silent for a moment, giving her space to gather herself, but there was something about her now: a vulnerability that had crept into her demeanor. you knew she needed help, not just with the shot but with her growing unease. you took a slow step toward her, feeling the tension between you both build in the air.

you stood behind her, close enough that she could feel your presence, yet still leaving to her the decision to close the distance. minjeong didn’t move at first, but you could tell she was aware of you, her posture slightly stiff as if unsure how to react. then, without asking, you gently placed a hand on her waist, guiding her to shift just a fraction. the contact was light but intentional, enough to make her freeze for a moment.

“let me help,” you said quietly, your voice calm, almost reassuring. there was no force in your words, just a quiet offer. minjeong took a breath, the smallest of nods acknowledging your proximity. her hesitation remained, but she didn’t pull away. as you moved your hand to gently adjust her wrist, you could feel the heat of her skin under your touch. it was subtle, but the way her body first tensed, then relaxed ever so slightly, was telling. you could feel her breath quicken, though she tried to keep it steady. 

"you know that it’s impossible for you not to foul with this layout?” you murmured, your voice low, just above a whisper. “you’re overthinking it. relax a little.” your hand on her waist shifted ever so slightly, guiding her posture, your touch light but firm enough to reassure her that you were there to steady her.

minjeong let out a small breath, her body shifting as you gently moved her hand into a more natural position. the proximity between you felt charged, the space between you both compressed with an electric tension. she didn’t pull away, even though there was a shift in the air, an unspoken awareness between you both.

"if you aim like this, you can at least pot one of your balls, you’re still going to hit one of mine but better that nothing, right?" you added softly, your voice almost a reassurance just for her. she nodded in agreement, her fingers tightened slightly on the cue, but now it felt more controlled, less uncertain. her breath steadied as she prepared for the shot. with a final, silent breath, minjeong lined up her shot once more, her body moving fluidly as she struck. the ball, as you predicted, hit one of yours but thanks to your help she was still able to pot one of hers.

now it was your time to shine, you loosen up your neck and back, grabbed your cue and got into position, aiming, shooting and changing posture repeatedly. the balls were rapidly going in one by one, you used some tricks, showing off your skills you acquired over time. potting the first six balls had been quite easy, the real challenge was the last one, you were having the opposite problem that minjeong had, one of her striped spheres was in the way to pot your seventh. the only way to escape this situation, was to try a complicated shot.

you bent over the table, aimed, calibrated the strength you would need, and forcefully shot. your eyes fixed on the ball, following its movements, hoping for the best. the trick had worked, your ball hadn’t collided with minjeong’s one, running to the other side of the table, getting closer and closer to the pocket. you were ready to celebrate when the ball started to slow down and stopped right before falling in. “damn it! It was so close!” you exclaimed, disappointed in yourself.

the other girl, who had been attentively watching you play, walked over to you and gently lifted her arm to pat your shoulder as a sign of sympathy. “don’t feel sad for one bad shot, you did amazing until now,” she reassured you, a warm feeling spread through your body making you blush. “thank you minjeong, I really appreciate it,” you replied, caressing her arm back to show gratitude. you saw her cheeks redden when she heard you say her name, averting her gaze and softly smiling. 

you were now taking in the fact that minjeong was probably going to win, it was easy, you cleared the table for her, she just needed to do some simple shots to succeed. and that's exactly what she was doing, potting her last two balls before aiming for her victory. you were observing from the other side, apprehensive of your evident losing condition, resting your chin on your hands that held the cue vertically. 

but when everything seemed to be already written, the unpredictable happened: yes minjeong did indeed pot the eight ball, but she also potted the cue ball, automatically making you the winner of the match.

as the game came to its unexpected end, a grin stretched across your face. you couldn’t help it: there was something intoxicating about this power shift. minjeong’s bright eyes flickered with frustration, then embarrassment, and the slightest hint of disbelief. she had lost. the moment was almost cinematic, the dim lighting casting a golden hue over her features. she looked... entranced, still processing the outcome.

her gaze was fixed on you, lips slightly parted. you could see the vulnerability beneath the surface. her hands hung loosely by her sides, but you could feel the tension radiating from her, like a pull between the two of you, a magnetic force that neither of you could deny. as you moved closer, her breath caught, and her body stiffened, but there was something else now: a faint glimmer of anticipation in her eyes. she bit her lip, her pupils dilating as your face came nearer.

you paused, contemplating your next move, her eyes were begging for proximity, flickering between your lips and your gaze, a slight tension building up in her shoulder as if she was anticipating your touch. her body leaned your way as a silent welcoming sign, and you took it, cupping her face gently, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath your palms. the hum of conversation and laughter around you seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a bubble. her breath quickened. “relax, minjeong,” you murmured, your voice low, comforting, and commanding all at once. “it’s going to feel good.”

you took a deep breath, you were engulfed in the sweet scent she emanated, surely not a cheap perfume. the richness of the jasmine mixed with vanilla acting as an invisible thread that pulled you in every time she was near, a fragrance you’d come to associate with her. minjeong’s eyes narrowed, hesitation made clear by her parted lips, mouth muscles slightly twitching as she was trying to say something, but was too scared to. should she risk it all like this? her heartbeat louder as it echoed in her chest.  

a beat passed before she found the courage to whisper, almost too quietly to hear, “can you kiss me... please?” her hands, trembling slightly, found their way to your waist, pulling you in. the uncertainty in her voice made the request all the more enticing. she wanted it. she needed it. you could feel the weight of that simple plea hanging between you, thick with unspoken desire. 

you sensed some unwelcome eyes turning your way, a few lingering glances that had you unconsciously tighten the grip on her face in possessiveness, wondering if it was the right thing to continue right there. the bubble that you were both in had dissolved just for a second, you were now hyper aware of your surroundings, the laughing and clinking had become an unwanted intrusion to your intimate moment. your attention swinged back to her face, your furrowed brows trying to communicate your discomfort non-verbally to the other girl.     

you hesitated before speaking “in front of everybody? don’t you think it’s a little… dangerous?”, the question hung in the air, your voice barely above a whisper, as if you were giving her a moment to decide. she glanced around, eyes darting from yours to scan person per person, the idea of kissing you in front of so many people was suddenly very real. minjeong’s gaze flickered back to yours, a blush crept up her neck, she let out a soft laugh, more of a nervous exhale than anything else. her lips remained parted, but no words came out, just a soft hum of uncertainty. 

that was the telltale sign that your feelings were mutual. you then let go of her cheeks, you gently placed your hand on top of hers, taking her arm, fingers curling around her delicate skin. the soft warmth of her pulse under your touch was a subtle reminder of how close she was. “let’s go to the bathrooms, it’s more secluded.” you speak in a low and controlled voice, keeping the whispery connotation of your last conversation. you let the words linger just enough to make minjeong feel a heat spread through her body, making her wonder what exactly you meant by “more secluded”. 

her train of thoughts interrupted by a graceful pull on her arm, with every step you took, you drew her closer to the promise of something more. she followed without thinking, her feet moving on their own, a warm tension building within her with each step, her pulse quickening as the distance between you two seemed to shrink, leaving her breathless with anticipation.

a/n: part 2 will come out soon... 👀

[magnificentmaleficent]

ʙʟᴀꜱᴘʜᴇᴍᴏᴜꜱ | ᴅʀ. ᴢᴀɪᴜꜱ x ꜰ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ [I]

𝚃𝚒𝚝𝚕𝚎: Blasphemous 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Dr. Zaius x F! Reader 𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Stranded on a world ruled by evolved apes, you are the anomaly- a human that defies the natural order and no one in Ape city resents your existence more than Dr. Zaius, the rigid and unyielding minister of science and chief defender of the faith. Who, more determined than ever, wants to keep his world safe from humankind- your kind. But... Is it normal to be so consumed by your enemy's presence? Why can't he keep you out of his thoughts? 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: [I] [II] [III]

★゜・。。・゜゜☆゜・。。・゜★

CHAPTER I : ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴᴅ

You had always known survival meant adaptation, you also had never thought that your greatest challenge would come in the form of an ape.

From the moment your ship had crash-landed on this desolate world, this world had tried to hunt you and it’s society had regarded you as nothing more than an animal that causes destruction everywhere, a beast that had to be destroyed. Meanwhile the scientific community regarded you as an oddity, an interesting experiment, a means to an end. Only two chimpanzees, Zira and Cornelius treated you as something other than a zoo attraction.

Then there was Dr. Zaius, who regarded you as nothing more than a threat. A remnant of a time long buried deep, where it can't hurt apekind. A reminder of what he had worked his entire life to suppress. To Zaius, you were the embodiment of chaos, a spark that could ignite Ape city’s carefully maintained order. His cold, calculating stare unsettled you as you stood in front of him, and his dismissive words made your blood boil.

 He believed your intelligence was a perversion of nature, and you hated him for it.

The first real confrontation between the two of you came when Zaius summoned you to his office. The room smelled of parchment and old wood, stacks of scrolls neatly arranged behind him as he stood at his desk, hands folded behind his back.

“You presume to understand things beyond your place, human.” His voice was sharp, as if his authority alone could chisel away your defiance.

“And you presume to know everything while living in fear of what the past might reveal.” You crossed your arms, unwavering. 

His golden eyes narrowed. “Knowledge is not fear. It is control. And you are an anomaly. One that must be understood… and contained.”

“Contained?” you scoffed, stepping forward, the dim candlelight casting shadows across your face. “You mean silenced.”

For a moment, Zaius did not respond. He simply watched, studying you as though you were a puzzle that defied completion. Then, finally, he spoke. “You mistake order for oppression.”

“And you mistake tyranny for wisdom.”

A beat of silence stretched between them. For the first time, you saw something flicker behind his controlled expression—hesitation, perhaps even curiosity. But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

“You are reckless,” Zaius murmured, more to himself than to you. “Taylor was the same.” He scoffed.

Your eyes widened at the mention of that name, a man that had disappeared from your life a long time ago, a friend that the official reports said had died on his last mission. Clenching your fists you retorted back “I am not Taylor.”

“No,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “You are something else entirely.”

The way he said it made you shiver, though not entirely out of fear. There was something else there—something unspoken, buried beneath layers of duty and tradition. 

A challenge.

A warning.

And, perhaps, the first spark of something neither of you yet understood.

Your days in captivity blurred together, an endless repetition of interrogations, defiant silences, and moments of unexpected clarity between the two of you. What had begun as outright hostility between you and Zaius had shifted—subtly, dangerously—into something far more complicated.

One evening, as the sun bled its final colors into the horizon, armed gorillas escorted you once more to his chambers. This time, the guards remained outside. Was that..

A sign of trust?

Zaius sat at his desk, parchment spread before him, though his focus was entirely on you. “Sit.”

“If this is another lecture on the dangers of human nature, you can save your breath.” You deadpanned, remaining standing in subtle rebellion.

A ghost of a smirk played on his lips, barely there before it vanished. “No lecture. Just a friendly discussion.” He smiled.

Frowning, you asked. “About what?”

He leaned back, steepling his fingers. “A compromise.”

The word caught you off guard. You expected accusations, perhaps even another warning—but this? “You’re offering me a deal?”

“I am offering understanding,” he corrected. “There are things I cannot change. Just as there are truths you refuse to accept.”

Your eyes studied him carefully from head to shoes. This was not the same unwavering judge who had condemned Taylor long ago, nor the cold scholar who had dismissed you upon arrival. There was something different in his posture, in the way he watched you—as if he, too, was struggling with a reality he did not wish to name.

“So tell me,” stepping closer to the seat in front of his desk, you asked. “What is it you want to understand?”

Zaius exhaled, rubbing his temple as if avoiding a headache. “You defy everything I have ever been taught. You are not an animal, nor a mute savage, yet you stand here, challenging centuries of wisdom. Do you think that is easy to accept?”

Crossing your arms you responded. “No harder than accepting that your history is built on lies.”

His eyes flashed. “You are arrogant.”

“You are blind.” You bite back.

Silence fell again, this time thick with something unspoken and as Zaius stared at you, you could see the battle waging inside him—duty against doubt, belief against undeniable truth.

“You could have escaped,” he said finally. Knowing that Zira and Cornelius would have tried to help you escape.“Yet… you remain here.”

You took another step forward. “And you could have let me be executed. Yet here I am.”

A long breath escaped him, the weight of it heavy in the dim candlelight. “This is dangerous,” he murmured. "You are dangerous."

“Then why haven’t you stopped it?” Your lips curled into a smirk.

The silence between you two was no longer one of opposition, but of something far more fragile that laid unspoken between the two of you, neither daring to name it.

Realization washed upon you like a tidal wave. Perhaps the real danger was not in escaping Ape City...

To be continued...

★゜・。。・゜゜☆゜・。。・゜★

Please ♥︎ and reblog, all shares are appreciated.

[optimisticgrey]

OC layers

Hells, yes! Thank you, darling @dearest-and-nearest, for the tag.

No pressure tag for @astarioffsimpmain @druizard and @rdekarios

LAYER ONE: THE OUTSIDE

Name: Celeste (Dekarios)

Eye Color: Blue and green

Hair Style/Color: Celeste is, without question, the least vain person imaginable. Her hair is purely functional—no flourish, no effort to impress. Small braids to keep it out of her face, the rest tied back and forgotten. It's practical, like everything else she wears. During the journey, it's Shadowheart who ends up maintaining it. Celeste doesn't care enough to bother, not beyond washing and combing.

Height: 6,5 (1,72 m)

Clothing Style: If it’s black, Celeste will wear it. No questions asked. She’s not one for frills or impractical things—comfort and freedom of movement come first. Clothes you can fight, run, or vanish in. Something you can bleed in and still free enough to dance out of weapons range. She still keeps the skirt that got torn to shreds on the Nautiloid. Half-hanging by a thread, scorched and stitched and stained—it’s her favorite piece of clothing. (The corsett she is wearing in the picture….was me trying out a mod 😬)

Best Physical Feature: Her disarming smile.

LAYER TWO: THE INSIDE

Fears: Celeste wears courage like a second skin—smiling, teasing, pushing forward with that same stubborn spark even when the world is on fire around her. She’s the first to say “we’ve got this,” the first to crack a joke when the silence gets too heavy. Not because she isn’t scared, but because she is. She tries not to show it. Worry is a luxury she can’t afford, not when the people she loves are looking to her. But underneath the brave face and easy laugh, she’s terrified. Terrified of losing herself again — slipping back into whatever she was before the tadpole, before hope, before them. Terrified of forgetting the people who gave her back a name, a life, a reason.

But her worst fear, the one she buries deepest, is losing them. One by one. To duty. To fate. To death. To the version of herself she used to be.

She can survive pain. She’s used to it. But loss — real, irreversible loss — would undo her completely. So she smiles. She sings. She fights like hell.

And she prays they never see how much she’s holding together just to pretend to be whole.

Guilty Pleasure: Celeste is a hedonist, through and through. Life has taken enough from her—memories, safety, certainty — so she clings to what’s left: sensation, indulgence, pleasure. She lives in the moment because the past is a bloodstained blur and the future? Unpromised.

She drinks. She smokes. She fucks like it’s the last time. Not because she’s reckless (though she often is), but because it makes her feel whole. Alive. Her body, her choices, her desires — they’re hers, and she claims them without shame. Joy, however fleeting, is still joy. And she'll take it while she can.

Ambition for the Future: None. She just wants to live.

LAYER THREE: THOUGHTS

First Thoughts Waking Up: what does it mean to be alive?

Not breathing or walking or casting spells. Not waking up with blood on her hands and pretending it’s not hers. Truly alive. With purpose. With joy. With meaning.She never thought she’d survive long enough to ask herself that. She lived expecting every day to be the last—fought like it, loved like it, ran like it. And now that the end didn’t come, and the fire’s gone out, she’s left with the silence. So she watches the others and wonders if that’s it. The easy laugh. The gentle touch. The way someone looks at you like you belong. It terrifies her. And yet, it’s the thought she always comes back to. What now? What’s next? Who is she, if not fighting for their lives?

What They Think About Before Bed: Halsin.

What They Think Their Best Quality Is: Her singing voice.

LAYER FOUR: WHAT'S BETTER

Single or Group Dates: Single

To be Loved or Respected: Loved. Always.

Beauty or Brains: Have you looked at the people who chose her? Both.

Dogs or Cats: All of them.

LAYER FIVE: DO YOU?

Lie: Certainly. Lying is just a tool — harmless enough in the right hands, and sometimes kinder than the truth. Celeste’s done her fair share of it, and it’s rarely hurt anyone… at least, not in ways that mattered.

But context is everything. To strangers? She'll lie without blinking. To enemies? Of course. Survival first. But to the people she calls family — Never. Not if she can help it. They deserve honesty. Even when it’s hard. Especially then.

Believe in Yourself: Never.

Believe in Love: Always.

Want Someone: More than words can ever describe.

LAYER SIX: HAVE YOU EVER?

Been on Stage: Yes

Done Drugs: Yes

Changed Who You Were to Fit In: Celeste wears identities like other people wear clothes. She slips into roles, voices, mannerisms as if they were cloaks to shrug on and off. Sometimes it’s for survival. Sometimes, it’s to protect the people she loves. Sometimes, it’s because she’s not entirely sure who she is beneath all the layers. It’s not deception, not really. It’s adaptation. It’s armor. And if she changes shape often enough, maybe no one will see how fragile the core truly is.

LAYER SEVEN: WHAT'S THEIR...

Favorite Colors: Black

Favorite Animal: Potatoe Peel (the owlbear)

Favorite Book: “The Spark Within: An Arcane Primer for the Innately Gifted” By Archmage Callidus Wrenmoor of the Waterdeep Conclave. The first book Gale gave her to read and discuss afterwards.

Favorite Game: Lance board. Gale sucks at it, though he claims to be a master.

LAYER EIGHT: AGE

DOB: Yes, Celeste was born at some point.

How Old Will You Be: Early 30. She doesn't remember.

Age You Lost Your Virginity: 16

Does Age Matter: For a fight? Yes. For everything else? No.

LAYER NINE: FINISH THE SENTENCE

I love: to sing, to breath, to dance, to laugh.

I feel: broken.

I hide: my most inner self.

I miss: the feeling of knowing who I am.

I wish: I could be worthy.

[tainted-sweet-meats]

have you ever shared speedpaints / progress videos anywhere?

I absolutely love the way you use color and don't understand how you pull it off at all lmao

I always wanted to make speed paint videos, but I'll be honest when I want to make one, creativity never sparks me like ever. I have tried to in the past so many times, and my brain usually goes, "Man, I would really rather play some video games," or "I'd rather watch some deep-dive iceberg videos" 😭 It's a never-ending cycle, so I have kinda given up trying. I hope when the stars align with my creativity and making a speed painting vids, I can just do it. I'm a very fickle person when my creativity sparks, and I just like to go go go go and not stop to do anything else. Tbh when it comes to coloring digitally, I simply color as if I would traditionally. It's a very simple technique. While I use my layers to set up everything, I always smash into one layer to work. I do have different styles of coloring. Because not all pieces need a painterly style.... Some need the idea to just be out there like my flat renders. I also take every drawing piece as something new to learn, so no two drawings are ever the same in coloring styles. What stays the same is I take a traditional coloring head space to each one.

[confidentlyher]

Let’s Talk About It: The Panty Drawer Glow-Up

Okay, when was the last time you actually looked inside your panty drawer and thought, “Wow, I love everything in here”? Yeah… same.

We get so used to holding onto old, stretched-out, no-elastic-left pairs that our underwear drawer turns into a graveyard of “maybe I’ll wear this when I do laundry.” But guess what? Your panties deserve better. YOU deserve better.

So let’s talk about giving that drawer a major glow-up.

What Even Is a Panty Drawer Glow-Up?

A panty drawer glow-up isn’t just about tossing worn-out pieces (although yes, please do that). It’s about knowing everything about panties and curating a collection that:

Feel comfy all day

Look cute (even if no one sees them)

Fit well without digging or rolling

Match your lifestyle and outfits

Because when your underwear feels good, your whole mood changes.

It’s Time to Say Bye-Bye

This is the crucial first step. Pull everything out. Yes, every single pair. Now, hold each one. Does it spark joy? Is it comfortable? Does it still fit?

Toss: Anything with holes, stretched-out elastic, rough or itchy fabric, unidentifiable stains (we've all been there), or anything that just plain makes you feel "meh."

Re-evaluate: Those "just in case" pairs? The ones you haven't worn in a year? Be honest. If they're not serving you, let them go.

Keep: Only the pieces that make you feel good, confident, and comfortable. Think about your lifestyle – do you need more seamless options for everyday, or are you craving more luxurious lace for special occasions?

This step isn't just about decluttering; it's about making space for what truly makes you feel amazing.

Organize Like a Boss

Now that you've curated your collection, it's time to give those beauties a proper home. Forget the jumbled mess. We're going for functional and aesthetic.

Drawer Dividers: They come in all shapes and sizes, from adjustable plastic to cute fabric bins. Use them to separate by style (briefs, thongs, boy shorts, etc.), by material, or even by color.

The Roll-Up Method: Instead of folding, try rolling your panties. It saves space, keeps them neat, and makes it easy to see everything at a glance.

Color Coordinate: If you're feeling extra, arranging by color can be incredibly satisfying and visually appealing. Imagine a rainbow of softness greeting you every morning!

Special Spots for Special Pieces: Have a few delicate lace pieces or silk numbers? Consider a small sachet bag or a dedicated section to protect them from snags.

Infuse Some Freshness & Style

Your drawer is clean and organized, but let's add some personality!

Scent Sachets or Dryer Sheets: Tuck a few lavender sachets, cedar blocks, or even a fresh dryer sheet into the drawer. It'll keep everything smelling lovely and subtly fresh.

Liner Love: A pretty drawer liner (think patterned paper or even a piece of soft fabric) can instantly elevate the look and feel.

A Pop of Green: While you can't put a plant in your drawer, think about what makes you feel connected to nature or calmness. Maybe it's a soft, earthy color palette for your next few purchases.

Treat Yo' Self: Now that you know what you have and what you truly need, consider adding a few new pieces that align with your glow-up vision. These are a few types you’ll actually want to reach for:

High-Waist Briefs - great for period days.

Bikinis - perfect for everyday wear. 

Boyshorts -  ideal for lounging, sleeping, or layering under skirts.

V-Shape Underwear - when you don’t want visible panty lines.

Seamless Thongs - perfect for leggings and tight fits.

The Glow-Up Mindset

This panty drawer glow-up is about more than just organizing your intimates. It's about:

Mindfulness: Taking the time to appreciate the small things in your life, even your underwear.

Self-Care: Choosing items that make you feel comfortable, confident, and beautiful, starting from your innermost layer.

Empowerment: Knowing that even the parts of your wardrobe no one else sees are curated with care and intention.

Open that drawer, put on some good music, and get ready to transform your panty situation from drab to fab. You deserve a little luxury, even in the smallest corners of your life. Share your glow-up moments with me – what are your favorite tips for a happy, organized panty drawer? Let’s talk about it!

[infinitelyblue]

I take him by the chin—jaw set against my fingertips with stubborn determination, a will of iron—and I bore straight into the depths of his beautiful brown eyes.

From a distance, they’re “just brown,” I suppose, dark like anyone else’s. But from here, where I stand, they’re a dull sort of amber color—somewhere between green and unpolished bronze, singed darker around the edges. The middle is stained with a wash of russet brown that leaks further into his right eye than his left, tarnishing it in a way that nearly mimics heterochromia.

And they’re deep.

It feels like minutes that I fall—piercing through the layers controlled and calculated, at first, then losing my footing and tumbling end over end through a tempest of wind and wildfire. In his eyes, I see a little bit of everything, changing like the chaos of shifting sand. It’s hot and sharp, closest to the surface, and I see hatred there—rage, rage, vehement and vast and wild, but deeply unsteady. Beyond it, beyond the fury of the fire, there is a terror indescribable, snaked around his windpipe; there is a profound and languishing grief, a leaden gray pall that spreads wide and cracks deep; there is an unremitting exhaustion, bound to it, that draws even on what’s left within me.

There is a great and gaping wound, weeping and swollen, that cuts to the very heart of his being and then a little further still. It’s an old wound, but still raw, forever raw, even around the edges. Much of it, now, has begun to blacken with rot, a sort of poison that spreads unchecked until it has consumed all that remains within.

In his eyes, I see the depths of an untold pain, only half-concealed, that eclipses all that he is.

But at the center of it all—past the fire, and the cold, and the violent winds of the maelstrom that tosses him to and fro—I see a warm glow that remains. It’s a dim and beleaguered tongue of fire, faded and flickering—and still, it fights.

I see bitterness and hatred and searing rage in his eyes, and so do I see an aching vulnerability, a tenderness critically wounded. I see in his eyes a dullness akin to death that shrouds his entire being, and so do I see a spark of life, startling and unexpected and brighter than it has any right to be. I see hope, and despair, and hardness, and softness, and openness, and fear, and weakness, and untapped strength, and death, and life.

He hurts so terribly, so deeply, that it saps his power even to remain steady-handed, sure-footed. I know, then, that the depths of his capacity for love are the same—all but entirely unrealized, and yet equally profound.

But he isn’t a good person, not now. He hurts, but the pain makes him dangerous—erratic, unempathetic, abusive, hateful. And yet, the flame of a curious and persistent hope for him burns within me nevertheless—inexplicable, unquenchable (though God knows I’ve tried) in spite of my myriad prior successes in snuffing it towards others.

His sanity is fraying thread, but his will is unsteady iron—set in his ways, set in his rot. Only fire can heal him now, a fire far hotter, far more purifying, than anything I could ever hope to give him on my own.

(In his eyes, I see myself—my own eyes, in the mirror, staring gray and miserable back at me. The others tell me that he has my father’s eyes, before he withered from my life, before he’d rotted away completely. I think that I should hate him for having my father’s eyes. I think that I should hate myself for having my father’s eyes. I wish that I could hate him for having my father’s eyes.)

“The day that I forget your existence entirely,” I tell him, in a language I don’t think he can even understand, “is going to be one of the best days of my life.”

I’m not even sure if I really mean it.

[quintchess]

Hello!! If you want to, could you write about a Hero that has ice powers that gets stuck in a burning building, and Villain has to save them?

Request #2

The pleasant feeling of chili sauce spreading over their tongue was everything Hero dreamt of throughout the day. Taking a bite of a hot dog bun with enjoyment, the hero propped their head on their hand, resting their elbow atop their knee and chewing with pleasure. They were sitting just a couple of rows away from the stage and could perfectly see every detail of the circus performance.

Their lips tingled slightly from the burning sauce, intensifying all those emotions that were so rare for them to feel. Hero couldn't remember the last time they were engaged in something other than their heroic actions. And they were determined to enjoy every minute of the time meant just for them.

There was almost nothing around that reminded them of their work, except for the coldness of their fingers, freezing the air around them. Out of habit, Hero was shifting their hot dog from one hand to the other, wanting to enjoy the food as much as possible while it was still hot. Their actions were so well-developed and precise that they didn’t even have to think about it, completely immersed in the show.

Bright and colorful lights shone all over the inner surface of the circus dome along with loud music, perhaps too loud, but the beauty of the performance completely brightened up any drawbacks. The hero watched every trick with fascination, like a child with an open heart to everything new.

But only the fire show truly captured their attention. They couldn't remember themselves stopping to breathe, trying to catch every smooth movement of the flame. Hero was too far away to actually feel it, but they almost could sense their own face meeting the heat, spreading through their icy veins.

Even in warm weather, their lips had a bluish tinge, and their skin always remained cold under several layers of clothing. Hero could never understand what truly hot felt like. If the sun could be touched, it would cool down under their frosty hand.

And now, watching the fire move in skillful hands, Hero felt as if this very fire was burning inside them. The shining lights and tongues of flame filling the entire stage echoed in their soul, languishing from the desire to touch the living light. The fire fluttered in the air, following the fakir's hands and escaping from their lips, only to then dissolve in the air.

Hero loved their own superpower, but they would have given anything to have a piece of this fire. The same kind of fire that now was spawning in the air with a bright orange light. Sparks filled all the space provided to them, as if trying to reach every spectator. As if in an attempt to achieve this, the fire ended up on the ground, after which the circus dome began to fill with smoke.

Hero came out of their trance when they saw people rushing out of the tent. They reacted quickly, shaking their hands off the eaten hot dog and taking their prepared mask out of their pocket.

The hero didn't take the whole suit with them, but they hoped their clothes were inconspicuous enough to be unnoticed. Stomping on the floor and sending an icy stream towards the fire, extinguishing part of the flame, Hero began to help people leave.

Fortunately, many of them could manage to do so on their own, but the hero still felt it was their duty to check the entire tent for any visitors left. Unlike them, nobody would be able to resist the fire.

After making sure that there was no one else around, Hero stepped closer to the source of the fire. The smoke made it difficult to breathe, but the understanding that everything would end soon helped them to keep going. The ice that the hero had created earlier melted unusually quickly, and when Hero came close to the fire, nothing happened.

The flame didn’t go out near them, and it was showing no sign of getting even slightly weak. Hero tried to create an ice crust on top of the ignition once again, but the hotness from the eaten hot dog dampened their ability. On top of that, the rapidly rising air temperature instantly drowned those tiny particles of ice that could have been created.

The hero realized they had been here for too long; the smoke was creeping into their head, and the tent was becoming too fragile to stand still. A moment's delay, and a beam collapsed right in front of their feet, smoking and actively turning into spreading ashes. The fire slowly surrounded them, and the crumbling circus dome blocked those few escape routes that were there.

Hero should’ve been afraid, lost in guesses about how to get out of here, but they just couldn't. The fire was too close to them, yet its captivating light evoked calmness and charmed with its unpredictable movements. The hero captured in their mind all the beauty of the flames surrounding them before the oxygen supply finally stopped.

They opened their eyes, waking up from their own cough, choking them from the inside. The tickling in their throat was burning so much that their lungs began to ache. And the hero would’ve liked to stop the feeling, stop trying to spit out their insides, but the burnt smell coming from them wasn’t helping to breathe any easier.

"Breathe deeply." Villain held Hero above the ground with both of their hands, simultaneously wanting to help them and at the same time, not knowing how.

Forcing their own mouth shut and resting their hand on the asphalt, Hero sat up, trying to calmly inhale and noticing a half-burned tent in the distance. There was no flame anywhere to be seen, only burnt spots of fabric.

"What the hell were you doing there?! The villain exclaimed, lifting their hands in indignation. "I can't even burn anything without you appearing out of nowhere!"

The hero took a deep breath before speaking, their head spinning from the amount of the previously inhaled smoke. "So it was you who set that fire? Why would you do that?"

Hero almost immediately switched to the tone in which Villain had just spoken to them. Without waiting for an answer, the hero checked the mask on their face and began to brush away the ashes from their clothes, feeling their own cold fingers through the fabric.

"For distraction, of course!" Villain continued in the same manner, folding their arms on their chest. "Actually, it shouldn't bother you. It wasn't even for you! Why whenever I want to arrange something, you're always there? Are you following me or something?"

"Yes, I’m way too into you to leave you even for a second." The hero replied sarcastically, inhaling deeply to clear their lungs. They were still having a hard time breathing.

Pouting their lips, the villain was sitting next to Hero. Villain didn't want to look at them, but they couldn't help but peek, wanting to make sure they were fine. When, in an attempt to get rid of the ashes, Hero reached for their own hair, the Villain stopped them, loving the grayish hue in the hero’s locks.

"Leave it like that. It suits you." They barely suppressed a smile that Hero could never resist.

They chuckled and carefully brushed a few strands from their eyes, looking at the villain as the realization hit them hard. "Wait, did you just save me? Like, for real?"

"Looks like it." Villain shrugged their shoulders, as if the hero wasn’t addressing them or was talking about someone else.

Hero pursed their lips, smiling shyly and moving closer to the villain, as they gave them a hug enemies would never have. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

The villain was caught off guard by such a gesture; they didn't want to pull away, although they couldn’t dare to hug in response either. "It’s nothing. I mean, if you're gone, there won't be anyone to stop me."

Smiling just a bit too wide, Hero pulled away only a bit, their arms still wrapped around the Villain in a semi-embrace. "I think I inhaled too much smoke during that fire. I think I need artificial respiration."

"No, you don't, you're conscious -"

But Hero was no longer listening, quickly pulling Villain closer by the collar of their shirt and pressing their lips hard against their own.

Next

[weekend-whip]

Cole + S:

:)

S. Music Choice (I Hear a Symphony) (Legacyverse, could be Season 2 or 3, could be standalone)

Prompt List

AO3 Version

. . .

It’s not common, but not unheard of for Cole to retreat to the old music room at the deserted end of the school. A room replaced long ago by the far grander one on the opposite end, its only purpose now is to house an old piano that gathers more dust than it does people to play it. Cole slips into the room every now and then, mostly at times when needs a moment alone. As he does today.

He’s still not terribly fond of playing the piano—not after hours and hours and hours of practice forced upon him in his youth...but under his own accord, sometimes it’s a more calming outlet than just outright punching something. Beside, he’s got the skill, so why not use them when he can?

Cole settles at the bench, smilingly fondly at the familiar squeak it makes in the process. He brushes his fingers along the keys with a featherlight touch, a bit melancholic at the fresh layer of dust settled upon them. It means no one’s been here since the last time he’d been, then.

He tests the keys—bright, vibrant notes ping out into the air, putting color into an otherwise monochromatic silence. It’s a tiny bit off-pitch from what would be considered normal, most likely due to the lack of use, but not to the point that the average person would notice. And it’s not like Cole’s doing this for an audience anyway. He is strictly in the company of himself. 

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself like earth itself. He raises a single hand...and plays a single note.

Over and over again, in the tune of a simple song.

It’s monotonous, and unchanging, similar to his feelings. It never grows louder nor quieter, not faster nor slower; the same tempo in every second. It echoes how day after day, he tries his hardest to gain the attention of the one he wants more than anything, in the way he wants. But the response is always the same, and the risk is too great for Cole to just come out and say it. It could ruin everything, and Cole can’t bear the thought of being at fault for a potential falling out. So he buries the feelings away, as he has an unfortunate habit of doing. 

But today, the feelings are just a bit more intense than usual, to the point that Cole had to remove himself from his friends at lunch, and skipped class for reasons that don’t require jumping in a giant mech. He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much in particular today—why every point of contact feels like electricity to him, yet mere static to the other; why every meaningful glance feels to him like an eternal depth to get lost in and explore forever, yet a shallow, brief, overall irrelevant moment to the other. 

It’s nobody’s fault, Cole knows, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“...I used to hear a simple song...” Cole sings out in a low, even voice. Any more forceful and his voice will become broken, squawky—and more terrifyingly, heard. 

Yet his gentle playing presses on as thoughts drift into memories of how sad and miserable he used to be, until he ran away, until he became a ninja, until he met...well, everyone else. But he’d met Zane first, and from there, for the first time in a long time...his thoughts weren’t so tormented. And instead, a melody of something far more uplifting has since hummed in its place. 

And the song that resonates from those little interactions, those fleeting sparks of hope that something might just ignite if he just wants it enough, that he can break away from this glacial pace of progression and not feel like he’s getting left behind...not feel like he’s being left alone as everyone else carries on...

But now Jay and Nya have each other, and Kai’s got no shortage of people to throw affection unto him with nothing more than a wink to encourage it...

And Zane—

Zane.

Zane.

“...That was until you came along—”

Something shuffles by the door; Cole’s on his feet in a flash, heart pounding in his throat as he instinctively throws up his fists. The door is slightly ajar, even though he had definitely closed it behind him. Cole narrows his eyes; is someone in here with him? And if so, who, when, and...why?

“...sorry, sorry!” chirps a boy in a pink and black hoodie, warping into sight. Cole reels back as the boy floats before him with an apologetic and sheepish smile. “I-I didn’t mean to scare you; I was trying to tell you I was here but then you started singing and I got distracted–PANICKED so please don’t punch me please—”

Cole looks on in bewilderment. “Jesse?”

Jesse does a single flip in the air before landing to bounce on his heels. “Surprise!”

“...how’d you know I was here?” Cole asks, shoulders slumped yet still curious. Leave it to the Master of Surprise to completely catch him off guard like this. Sometimes, though, he can’t help but wonder if that’s just a Jesse thing though. 

“Well, for starters, you vanished at lunch, and then you weren’t in art class.” Jesse leans against the door, hands stuffed into the pocket of his hoodie. “And with that being one of your favorite classes, and there being no Shark Attack or anything else of the sort...”

Jesse scuffs his boot along the ground, puffing out his cheeks.

“...I just got a little worried, so I came looking.”

Jesse shuffles around, like he’s embarrassed for saying so. Cole smiles against his will, something warm budding in his chest. Normally he’s the one chasing down the others when they’re having a rough time. It’s not often that someone hunts him down.

...then again, he rarely lets on that’s he having a bad day in the first place. So. Well. That’s probably his fault, then. 

“...Aww. So worried about me to the point that you, Mr. Good Boy Councilman, skipped class to find me.”

Jesse, flustered, makes a face. 

“You act like I have perfect attendance or something.”

“You act like the type of person who would if he could.”

“...Ugh.” Jesse puffs out his cheeks and glances at the door. “Welp, you seem fine enough, and I’m going to assume you wanted to be alone, so I’ll be off then-”

“No!” Cole yelps. One of his legs whacks against the piano bench as he flinches, causing it to squeak and make Jesse jump. Cole winces, sitting back down. “I-I mean, I did want to just...sort out my thoughts, but...maybe I could use someone to talk to. Since you’re, you know, already here...and if you’re willing...”

Jesse keeps pouting for a few moments more. Cole looks up at him with wide, pleading, marigold eyes; Jesse’s expression melts into something softer, a light grin crossing his lips.

“Oh, fine.” Jesse trudges over to the bench, nudging Cole with his hip. “Scoot, then.”

“...tch, so pushy.” Cole huffs, shuffling over to make room. 

Jesse snickers when his elbows bump the keys, making a rather catastrophic mashing of noise blare out. He settles beside Cole, partially leaning against his right arm. Jesse shifts after realizing just how close he’d gotten, opting to sit up straight and stare expectantly instead.

“...Welp, go on then.” Jesse gestures at the piano, eyes sparkling. “Keep playing; keep singing!”

“...you know I can’t sing,” Cole grumbles. “A-And the playing was, like, the most basic thing I could do in the moment—”

“Sounded fine to me,” Jesse insists with a shrug. “And, if you really think you’re that bad at it, which you’re not, a little extra practice won’t kill you. I mean, listen to me!”

Jesse randomly pounds at the keys, purposely this time, and the absolute offense to music that occurs rips a laugh out of Cole. It’s loud, rough, and unexpected, just the way Jesse likes to hear it, and he finds himself chuckling too, even as Cole starts to bat his hands away. 

“Creation’s sake, you’re going to get us in trouble with that racket,” Cole scoffs between snorts, shaking his head. Jesse tilts his head back and grins shamelessly. 

“Guess you’d better show me how it’s done, then!”

Cole sighs, blowing at his bangs. He eyes Jesse from the corner of his gaze.

“...you’re really not going to let this go, are you?”

“Hey, I’m skipping class for this, so gimme a show already!” 

Cole glances away again, shoulders scrunching up. Jesse drops some of his bravado, face softening up. Tentatively, he drapes his hand over one of Cole’s, where it rests upon Cole’s lap curled in a defensive fist. 

“...I won’t tease you for it, I promise. I just really wanna hear you play. You know, without creeping by the door, ahaha...”

Cole blinks, glancing down at the gesture, then at the silent yet fierce truth in Jesse’s words. Jesse smiles again, a quirky little thing upon his face, as he nods towards the piano.

Cole has always been terrible at saying no.

With a resigned sigh, he adjusts his posture into something more rigid and proper, but still unmistakably Cole. He hears Jesse gasp in delighted shock beside him, even as he pulls his hands away to lift them above the piano...

And then, very gently, Cole taps at the keys, the barest thread of a melody ringing into the air. 

“...I used to hear a simple song,” Cole begins again, now with ten times the nervousness. He can hear every creak in his voice, every single point of weakness, but Jesse makes no show of pointing out. “...That was, until you came along.”

Jesse grins cheekily; Cole gives him a quick nudge, beginning to play just a bit more intricately. A grander harmony emerges, if only by a few brisk notes, but Jesse hangs on every one. He watches in awe as Cole’s fingers dance across the piano as he would a ballroom floor, entirely mesmerized. 

“Now in it's place is something new...I hear it when I look at you.”

Cole swallows, still hating the way his voice sounds, and dares to peek over at Jesse. He dreads witnessing a look of disappointment, only to be surprised when Jesse’s simply staring wide-eyed in wonder, and with a bit of pink in his cheeks. Jesse’s gaze snaps up to meet Cole’s; Cole hurriedly looks away, throwing himself a bit deeper into his playing.

A more complex tune fills the room, Cole’s hands flitting about the piano with far more vigor than before. It’s a much richer sound, yet nothing spectacular. Cole hums under his breath, keeping to his own beat, all while Jesse leans back, eyes closed and taking in the sound and the moment. 

But after a couple minutes of that, Jesse finally asks,

“...so, why were you hiding away in here, anyway?”

Cole hums, disgruntled now, as he continues to play. His face twists with uncertainty, unsure of whether or not he should say, or he’d even be able to put it into proper words...but not saying so is just going to make all of this pretty awkward otherwise. He’s told Jesse some deep stuff about himself in the past—even back when he hadn’t known it’d been Jesse himself hidden beneath a fuchsia hood—and he’s always been pretty supportive, so...

“...Jess,” Cole begins, absently dragging his fingers across the piano keys. Jesse, as always, perks up upon being acknowledged, giving Cole his full attention. Cole squirms under the intensity of his gaze. “Can I ask a potentially...personal question?”

“Hmm.” Jesse pretends to ponder deeply, tapping at his chin. “That depends on what it is, I suppose.”

Cole chuckles, shaking his head. His playing starts to become a bit dissonant, compared to before.

“It’s nothing that deep, but it’s just—it’s probably kind of stupid, but—I’ve been wondering...have you, um...ever had a crush on someone, even if you’re pretty sure they don’t, or won’t, like you back?”

Cole pauses his playing, looking to Jesse for his answer. Jesse, startlingly enough, has gone somewhat pale, face twitching as he scrambles to string together some kind of response.

“...ahahaha. Ahahaha. Um. Hmm.” Jesse looks like he’s just choked on a lemon. “Ha...Haven’t we all at some point?”

“I mean, maybe not everyone but, like.” Cole’s foot bounces nervously. “I’m asking you specifically.”

Jesse yelps; Cole recoils as Jesse straight up disappears, having warped away, only to blip back in place seconds later. His face is scrunched like it’s taking everything in him to not run away, forcing himself to stay in place. 

“...if that’s too much, you don’t have to answer—”

“WELL, if you really wanna know–” Jesse suddenly can’t sit still, fidgeting and shuffling and looking everywhere but at Cole. “—I suppose there’s this one guy who wouldn’t know I was flirting with him even if he was sitting right next to me. But, ahaha, on top of that, I’m pretty sure he likes someone else anyway, sooo...” 

Cole wilts with sympathy. “Oof, tough break on that one.”

Jesse buries his face in his hands, repressing down a scream. 

“...you’re telling me.”

Jesse peels his hands away, feeling the distressed sparkles building in his eyes. This isn’t supposed to be about him. He glances wearily at Cole with a frown. 

“...why do you ask? Having some...reservations about your own crush or something?”

“Not exactly,” Cole begins. He swears Jesse’s eyes flash an intense pink for a split second; Cole blinks, and the light is gone. “But, I dunno...I’ve been trying to be more...direct, lately? And I don’t think it’s...working. Today I tried to ask him to come with me to go to the aquarium, just us, because I knew everyone else would be busy, and he still said ‘We should wait until we can go with the others! It will be more fun!’...Augh.”

“Now that’s an oof,” Jesse agrees, feeling some of the sparkles fade. Mainly he just feels bad now. “But, ah, given who you’re talking about, I’m pretty sure he just didn’t want anyone to feel left out from a fun time, especially while they’re working or whatever.” 

Cole nods, fiddling with sleeves. 

“...Yeah, I know. And that’s what kind of makes it harder...” Cole smiles to himself; Jesse’s eyes turn sharp. “He’s just so thoughtful and kind, to the point that it kind of blinds him from everything else, and it’s a little bit endearing, and I know if I just explained he’d be quick to apologize, but then I run the risk of saying too much and then what if he takes it the wrong way or–”

Jesse’s got his eyes squeezed shut tight, hiding the all-too telling signs of a potential outburst. And yet, there’s no hiding the way the piano suddenly screeches out of nowhere—cutting off Cole’s tirade—or the way the lights begin to go on the fritz...or how the bench they’re sitting on begins to quake. Cole stills in the midst of the chaos, turning towards Jesse with concern. 

“...was that you?” Cole asks. “Are you okay? Do you—?”

“...it...just...hurts...” Jesse takes a deep breath; the lights begin to calm, and their bench settles once more. He slowly opens his eyes; the glow in them has faded, thank the Master. “...to hear you have to talk like that. I know things are complicated right now, but, I still just wish you could...just be happy, that’s all.”

The silence in the room becomes suffocating; a contrast to the light melodies and laughter from before. It becomes far too much for Cole, and for want of something to distract from the weight of the moment, his hands finds purchase in the keys of the piano once more. 

“I’m not exactly mad or anything, but...like I said, I wanted to sort myself out before I had to see Zane again.” Cole grimaces, his second verse growing frantic. “...which is really hard when I have nearly every class with him.”

Jesse blinks away his own inner turmoil, beholding as Cole’s own starts to bubble to the surface. His face is neutral yet grim, with only the smallest signs of inward frustration peeking between the cracks. Cole only stares down at the piano, refusing to let his focus waver elsewhere.

...still:

“...I guess I shouldn’t be too upset he didn’t want to go with me, honestly. I don’t really make for the best company anyway.”

Jesse balks as Cole quickly abandons the conversation, swinging right back into an intricate showcase of instrumentation.  And, as per Jesse’s previous request, he continues to sing. 

“With simple songs I wanted more...Perfection is so quick to bore...”

“No, stop, go back!” Jesse demands, leaning up into Cole’s space. Cole keeps plinking away on the piano, maintaining the progression. “Why would you say that about yourself?!”

“Because...I’m pretty boring, all things considered? It’s usually the others that keep things interesting, not me.” Cole shrugs, stating it as one would an obvious fact. Jesse gawks at him like he’s turned into a ghost. He sputters, flailing around in a torrent of disbelief.

“What?! You lead a team of ninja, you’re literally got full command of the earth itself, you can dance, you can draw, you can make the most insane mixtapes, you can punch out an entire wall cuz you’re buff and stuff—!”

“That’s...not—”

“—you can play piano and I think you sing well enough, and you’re funny, and clever, and you’re super selfless and good at making plans in a pinch and you like food—”

“Everyone likes food though??”

Still, Jesse throws up his hands in exasperation.

“Just...how can you think any of that is boring?! You’re just unapologetically you, flaws and all, and you...you’re a beautiful person!” 

Jesse blurts it all out, definitely not meaning to go that far, but. Well. He’s here now and he’s going to stick to it. Cole’s eyes widen at the declaration, face going red, hands freezing halfway through a note. 

“...me?!” Cole squeaks out in disbelief. “I...I’m not—”

“Yes, yes you are!” Jesse insists, doubling own with his fists clenched before him. Cole balks, officially taken aback. “I refuse to let you sit here and say bad things about yourself! You’re being very mean to one of my favorite people right now, you know! And I won’t let it happen!” 

Jesse folds his arms, as if punctuating his point. Cole snorts, bewildered by the entire exchange, and sets to singing once more. 

“...You are more beautiful by far,” he hums, making sure to catch Jesse’s eye as he does. Anything that remains of Jesse’s fierce aggressive pep talk vanishes, stricken by such words sang by Cole. Of all people. At him. Cole grins coyly as Jesse sputters, only to chuckle when Jesse starts punching his arm. 

He continues to snicker, until Jesse rolls his gaze up, making sure Cole’s looking dead at him this time, and in the most surprising move of all–

“Our flaws are who we really are.”

He sings back. 

Unlike Cole’s gravelly voice that just sounds like a bag of rocks being throttled around (in Cole’s opinion), Jesse’s voice is smooth and rings with dulcet tones, immediately pleasing to the ear in just seven words. Cole’s heart seizes for just a moment, caught off guard both by how sudden and how good it was. He swallows, fingers suddenly twitching to get playing again. He’s never been so eager to do so before now. 

“...so you know this song too, then.”

Jesse’s eyes sparkle, this time with mischievous mirth. “Maybe. Might be yet another one I’ve taken a liking to after hearing it on your playlist.” 

Cole smiles to himself. He takes a moment to crack his knuckles, flashing a confident grin Jesse’s way before fully, and finally, throwing himself completely into his playing. 

Jesse’s eyes widen as a complex melody echoes throughout the room. Full and harmonic, like ten people are playing instead of just one. The notes spiral and tumble about in a dazzling crescendo that Jesse, and Cole, both find themselves caught up in. It’s a moment of magic that not even Jesse would have been able to conjure up by himself. 

And just as Cole finds himself lost in the music, to the point that he can just barely imagine other instruments theoretically accompanying him in an envisioned orchestra—

“...I used to hear a siiiiimple soooong...!”

Jesse sings from the very bottom of his diaphragm, hitting every word at a perfect pitch that compliments Cole’s piano like a duet always meant to be. Jesse’s words make Cole’s verses from before seem so bland in comparison, but no less meaningful or beautiful.

“That was until you came aloooong~”

And Cole can see it—hear it—feel it; a chorus of violins singing with all they’ve got, flutes whistling with all the air in their lungs, the beat of a drum that races to match Cole’s heartbeat, the applause from the cymbals as they come together to ring in greatness, all crashing together in a glorious show of harmony.

���You took my broken meeel-oooodyyyyy~”

Jesse draws out each word like an angel drawing out the string of a bow, each syllable striking with such potency that they pierce Cole like an arrow to the heart. Even as Cole plays furiously to match Jesse’s tempo, he can’t take his eyes off the other, entirely captivated by the sound. 

A golden afternoon glow from the window pours in as Jesse blinks, pausing for the briefest of breaths. He turns to Cole with a shimmering smile that outshines every light in the room. 

“And now I hear a symphonyyyyy...!”

Jesse’s eyes fall shut as he hits high notes that are way out into the stratosphere—and ones Cole could never dream of reaching. But Cole does his best to follow along with the beats of the piano, framing Jesse’s voice with the sound of the orchestra in his mind. The instruments rise and dance the more Jesse draws out his riff—

And Cole’s just a little overwhelmed by it all.

Jesse eventually rounds off his note; the violins fade, the flutes simmer down, the cymbals cease their crashing, the drums decrease, and Cole’s piano calms into the less-layered tones from before. The golden shine that once seemed to flood to room vanishes as well, replaced by the shoddy lighting of an abandoned school music room.

Jesse opens his eyes again, a pleased smile on his face. He turns to Cole, and accidentally catches his gaze on Cole’s utterly stunned one. Cole sits with eyes the size of saucers, subtly glowing despite the fact his face doesn’t betray just what’s going through his head right now. Jesse squirms, suddenly feeling abashed. 

“...what? Is that not how the rest of the song goes?” Jesse says when Cole’s piano playing comes to a halt. His face pinks as he fiddles with his bangs. “You knew I could sing, so...despite who I am, it shouldn’t have been that surprising, ahaha...”

“Yeah, but I, you, just...” Cole struggles to not just sit there like a gaping fish. Even when Jesse’s not really trying, he still manages to surprise Cole at the most unexpected times. “...I’ve never...heard you sing so brazenly before. Normally you would’ve sprinted out the door before squeaking out a note.”

“Hey.” Jesse pouts, even while knowing it’s true. “It’s just...I made you sing earlier, so...I thought it’d be fair to join in.”

“It’s not very fair when you have the voice of a god. How do you hit such high notes?! I could never.”

“Hnnnng...” Jesse turns away, failing at hiding his red his face is, and also pushing away the desire to hide his head in his hoodie like a turtle. Cole watches Jesse for a while longer, then turns back to the piano. His fingers twitch again, and his chest feels tight. 

“But...when you sang, it...it...” 

Cole swallows, throat suddenly dry. His heart’s racing and he doesn’t know why. 

“...it sounded like you genuinely meant it.”

The room grows quiet; a stark contrast to the full orchestra playing out in Cole’s mind moments ago. Jesse pulls out of hiding, suspiciously quiet, because how do you respond to something like that?! And yet, Cole’s not even sure how he wants Jesse to respond. Is he going to just play it off, or...or is he actually going to—

“...I’ll take that as a compliment, then.” Jesse hums, eyes falling closed as sparkles flit about him. “Guess I am just that good after all!”

“...ha, glad to see at least one of us can take a compliment sometimes,” Cole laughs back, but it falters. Why does he feel somewhat disappointed? 

“...anyway,” Jesse carries on, casting his gaze out towards the window. “Try not to beat yourself up so much, ‘kay? You are a great person to be around, and it’s not like you were outright rejected. Just...try again, I suppose. Ninja never quit, remember? And...especially not when there’s still a shred of hope.”

Cole ruminates, folding his hands together. Jesse’s not wrong, so...

“...okay,” Cole concedes, nodding once. “I won’t be so quick to feel defeated. But...I think I’ll stick around here a little bit longer. Still not ready to head back to class, heh.”

“All right, then.” Jesse stands, stretching out his back. “Just don’t stay too long. We’ve got that review quiz in Social Studies later.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Hee.” 

Jesse twirls on his heels, folding his arms behind his back.

“I should probably go though; I’ve got a test next period. But like I said, don’t stay too long, all right?”

“Yes sir, I promise,” Cole agree with an exaggerated salute. Jesse rolls his eyes, a smile fighting on his face as he heads back for the door. 

“...but, wait.”

Jesse halts, frozen by the call of Cole’s voice. Cole tugs on the ends of his sleeves. 

“The, um, the guy you like...I think he just might come around sometime too. I mean, um, it might not seem very likely, given the circumstances, but...hey, even the Master of Surprise can be surprised too, right?”

Cole makes a face, failing at trying to cheer Jesse up in turn. He’s usually better at these kind of speeches, but finds himself at a loss for the proper words. Jesse giggles at the attempt regardless, expression lighting up with a warm smile.

“...Yeah, ahaha, I really hope so too.” Jesse glances at the ground, heaving a small sigh. “But it’s okay if he doesn’t either; I just like being around him. And...that’s enough already, I think.” 

Jesse has the audacity to wink before officially heading for the door, giving Cole a brisk wave over his shoulder. 

“See you later, Cole.”

Cole sits in somewhat stunned silence as Jesse takes his leave, left to watch the other boy go. 

The notes of a soft piano dance about in the air, chiming in Cole’s ear, and Cole doesn’t even have to touch the keys. 

“...And now I hear...a symphony.”

[roger-that-cap]

tolerate it

part 2/2 of cardigan!

so, this is the follow up to my first ever one shot (guess not anymore LMAO) up here! i sincerely hope that you guys like this, because it was like pulling teeth for this one. every now and again i’d find a golden one and smack it in there and hope that one decent line made up for all the others.

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

this was the hardest thing ive ever had to write (simply because there was so much emotion in it and it was hard to reel myself back in just to cast out again) and i had to write a paper on nathaniel hawthorne.

warnings: pretty angsty for me, bittersweet, um- why do i write angst, DRAMATICS hahaha

word count: 4.5k!

would like to remind you that i do not own taylor swift songs! this one borrows a little from tolerate it, the best song on evermore imho (tied with coney island).

You knew that opening the door was going to be a hard part, but what you didn’t prepare for was actually listening to her. You could have stared at her for eternity in silence, just harping on everything good and bad that ever happened between the two of you. You could imagine a thousand different scenarios where the two of you were happy and none of this had occurred, but that wasn’t the case. She didn’t come to you to stare and leave.

“Thank you,” Natasha said, her voice throaty as she took a cautious first step into your space. Your space. It sounded weird, and you knew that it felt weird to her. You two had shared everything for the longest, and now you had your own place to live in. “Thank you for letting me in.”

“You came to talk,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, and she didn’t miss the obvious tell of your body language. “I won’t make you waste your time. Say your piece, and then...” you trailed off, both of you knowing full well where you were going with it. 

“Can I just start with the fact that I’m so sorry,” she blurted, and you have her an unamused look as you sat on your couch, and she sat on the edge of it. “And that I don’t know why that happened. I don’t expect for you to ever forgive me, and I don’t forgive myself. I won’t ever forgive myself for hurting you so badly, and having such a lapse in judgement. I’m sorry.”

“What was it that was different?” You asked, the question that had been haunting you for a while now finally escaping your lips. When she gave you a confused look, you stared back at her. “What was so different about whatever happened on the mission?”

You didn’t ask what you did wrong, because you didn’t do anything wrong. It took you weeks to know that, weeks to come to the conclusion, but you knew. It wasn’t anything that you lacked, it was something that Natasha did. Whether it was loyalty, restraint, a moral compass, or even something else, you didn’t think that it was you.

“There was nothing different.”

You were trying to hold it together, but you knew that you were seconds from falling apart right in front of the person who had destroyed you. “You don’t have to lie.”

She made a face. “There wasn’t. There was nothing about her that was better than you, I swear.”

But there was nothing different. There was nothing different in the way that you held her to the way that Abigail did, then. There must have been nothing different in the way that you kissed her in the morning. Nothing special about how you would dance with her on the third of the month simply because you liked the number three. There was nothing special about the way you held her hand and rubbed her back and sometimes sang her to sleep when she needed it. And there was certainly nothing different or special about the way that you let her put her head on your chest, just so that she could hear your heart beating.

Maybe what you did was different or special to you and not to her. And maybe it was time for you to finally realize it, whether it hurt or not.

Your emotions were threatening to come through, and you couldn’t have that happen. “I thought you came to talk. Talking requires truth.”

“I did,” she rushed, and then she sighed and wiped her palms on her thighs. You knew what that was. Of course you knew what she was. That was her being nervous. “I just wanted you to know that I love you, I love you so much, no matter what you choose. I never meant for any of it to happen, and I hate myself for making you feel that way.”

“You knew what happened with the others,” you said, and you knew that she knew that you were talking about the men who used to cheat on you without thinking twice. You saw her wince. “You knew how I felt about dishonesty. You knew how long it took me to be fully trusting of you, and you ruined it for two months of fun?”

“I know I did.”

“Do you know that, Natasha?” You asked, your voice starting to raise a bit. “I trusted you, and then I gave you everything I had. There wasn’t a piece of me that wasn’t for you, don’t you get that? I painted a portrait of us with the best colors I had and you opened the door on me doing the finishing touches and threw black paint over it.”

She was surprised that you were actually allowing yourself to be angry, and that made you even more upset. You were allowed to be pissed. “I’m sorry,” she breathed out, a thin layer of tears in her eyes.

“I did- I had everything lying out on the table for you emotionally. It was wrapped so pretty for you when I helped you through your own stuff, and it waited until you were ready. There wasn’t a thing you didn’t know, not a secret kept from you. And I still can’t believe that you returned me being in love with you, with that.”

“It didn’t mean anything to me. None of it meant anything to me at all, I swear.”

“It meant something to Abigail,” you said, and you saw her flinch. “It meant something to the girl that told you that she loved you. And if I’m not mistaken, you told her the same. So did it really not mean something, or are you an even larger liar than I thought?”

“It didn’t mean anything.” For a spy, she was quite easy to read. Or maybe you just spent so much time knowing her that it was impossible to not know her inside and out. You knew her every movement that she made when she lied, and you knew what she looked like when she was telling the truth. This, this wasn’t it.

And it destroyed you.

“Don’t you understand how that feels? It feels like being cut a thousand times by the fancy blade that you made yourself. It feels like being bitten by your own dog. It feels like being nearly drowned in the oceans that you’ve swam in for forever. We were so close! We were so close that I was sure that we were predestined or some of that cheesy shit, Natasha. I could have sworn that we were meant for each other, but now I know that we were, because the betrayal that you did cut me down into a million pieces. That was something that neither of the others were able to do. That’s something that only you could do, and I trusted you not to do it. I never thought you could do it. I thought that you loved me far too much to pull the shit that you did.

“Maybe I was foolish enough to make the knife right in front of you, but I trusted you to know it was there and not use it against me. And you still stabbed me with it.” Your voice cracked and you could feel warm tears falling into your hand, but you didn’t care. You had to keep going. “How could you see me give and give and give to you, for you, and then tolerate it and go see someone else?”

She was breathing heavily after your rant, like she had spoken the words instead. A singular tear came down her face, and you thanked whoever was sitting above and watching for the crack in her mask. You were begging to see her half as emotional as you, half as hurt by her own actions.

You knew that it was different when you saw her wipe her tear. She never wiped her tears around you. You were the only one who got to see them, but you supposed not even you were allowed to see it anymore.

“I can’t even begin-” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much I regret what happened.”

“How do you regret-” you pursed your lips and shook your head, closing your eyes for a second as your heart clenched. “How do you regret falling in love with someone?”

“I don’t love her-”

“Do you love me?” You asked.

“More than I love anything else in the entire world.”

“You loved her more if you risked me losing me, Natasha.” You said, and her brows shot up at your conclusion. “You know what would happen if you did that to me and I found out. You knew you would lose me, and you did it anyway. So you two must have had something special. Congrats.”

“No, you’re-”

The temper that you tried to keep in check was bubbling over again, and you realized that there was no checking yourself. “Do you know how long I waited for you and never cheated? Never had sex with anyone else, never went on a date with anyone else? For just as long as you were supposed to! And I managed! So what’s wrong with you?”

“Y/N, I think we should calm down a little. Let’s talk it out for a second.”

“I’ve been talking it out. All by myself, actually, because you’re too afraid to do a damn thing and admit that you fucked up for two months straight.” You closed your eyes again as you felt the hurt come back up. “How do I know it was just that time? How do I know that?”

There was a silence that spoke volumes. “You don’t.”

“And what if we got back together, after all of this?” It was hypothetical, but seeing the hope perk up in her sparked something that you hadn’t felt towards her in forever. Or, you had, it was just smothered by the heat of your fury. “How would I know that you aren’t off pulling the same thing you did earlier?”

“You’d have to trust me.”

“Well, I can’t do that. I literally can’t,” you cried out, putting your head in your hands and shaking you head. It was quiet except for the sounds of your cries, and it was ominous. There was never a quiet moment between you and Natasha, but you were dying out, fizzling away. You already had your Big Bang, now you were creating black holes that would forever remain on opposite sides of the universe. And you both knew it.

“You- you humiliated me,” you shook your head from left to right again, face still hidden. “You had an affair with a younger girl, you did it in front of the people I shared a living space with. You did it shamelessly in front of the people I cooked meals for every day, the people who’s fucking uniforms I ironed! They were my friends too, Natasha, and you humiliated me. You made them keep your dirty secret, did you apologize to them?”

“I haven’t spoken to them much.”

“I had to figure out from Pepper in front of the wedding dress store,” you continued, your throat tightening. “I was there getting the dress that I was going to walk down the aisle in. Everything was perfect, and then you did something that shattered what I thought couldn’t be broken.” You had thought that you and Natasha were rock solid, the hardest stone. You two were diamonds that sparkled and prevailed together, until you learned that you were truly just glass.

She leaned forward, giving you a look that you knew meant honesty. But it was far too late for that, and it wasn’t going to do Natasha much good now. “I wish every second of the day that I didn’t do it, Y/N. Every second of every day.”

Your lips turned into a scowl. “Wishing doesn’t do anything for us. We’re not little kids and we’re not princesses.”

That word, wishing, must have been the one to do her in, because she was sobbing right into her own sleeve, an arm covering her eyes from your sight. Your tears were subsiding, and you watched her with thinly pressed lips. Watching her cry was never pleasant.

“I’m so, so sorry. I can’t- I can’t imagine how you must feel, but I’m so sorry. I don’t know why- I can only apologize to you and beg that you’ll welcome me back to you, where I’m supposed to be.” Your eye twitched as you listened, and told yourself to keep your strength up. “I fucked up. I fucked up so bad, baby, but I know now. I know who I’m meant to be with, and it wasn't her. It’s you, it always has been.”

You knew that. You had always known that. It was a fact, something that had always rang as true as the beating of your own heart. You knew that it was written in the stars for you by some gracious god who decided to reveal what could have been your present and future to you, but you guess the other half of the tale never saw it herself. She knew now, sure. But she learned a little too late for your taste.

“Please, you have to know. You have to know that I didn’t- that I would never do it again.” 

How could you tell someone that their apology wasn’t enough? How could you reject someone when they were at their lowest point? How were you going to find the strength in yourself to turn down the woman that you still very much loved? The one that you thought that you lost to another was right in front of you, begging for a second chance, but was it right for you to give it to her?

But how could she see you at your most vulnerable every day and know that you loved and cared for her with your whole heart and still do what she did? How was she okay with ruining you after all that you had been through? How did she not feel bad for two months about betraying the one person who she knew would be forever in her corner?

Whatever her method was to do things that hurt the people she supposedly loved, she found a way. And so would you.

“Have you said what you needed to?” You asked, your tone slow and deliberate as you fought for your tears not to ruin your words. Just as slowly, she nodded. “Then, please leave.”

A noise left her throat. “Please, wait. Wait.”

“There’s nothing left to say, Nat. We said it all.” You stood up, and she followed. “Fix your relationships at the tower, alright?”

“Don’t,” she muttered, tears streaming down her face. “Please don’t tell me that you don’t want to try and then act like you care about me.”

You both walked to the door, because you knew that I the end she would do what you asked of her. “We were friends first.” You insisted. “We were friends first, Natasha, so I care. So, because we were friends first, I’ll tell you to get better. Work on yourself. Fall in love with someone else. Maybe not with two people at the same time.”

Her face was utterly pitiful. Her eyes were watering in a way you had never seen them do before, and her hands were shaking. You had seen the most of Natasha that anyone had in the entire world, yet you had never seen her so torn apart, so open. She laid it all out for you like you had been doing for her for years, and now you were finally the one to ruin the pretty picture. “Please.” 

As soft as a gentle breeze came your next word. “No.” You yanked your apartment door open, and then you were both shivering. She looked up at you, her face full of an expression of the most shattered you had seen her yet, and the part of you that still ached prayed that it would be the last time you would ever see her at all.

Your body moved on its own. It asked for one more point of contact, just one more before you deprived yourself from the person you loved the most. Your lips pressed against the crown of her head as you told yourself it was for your own good. Your eyes shut as you put your hands on her shoulders, and tears were turning spots of her red hair dark. She was shaking underneath you, crying even harder than you were. You pulled away from her and opened the door wider.

“Wish you all the best, Nat.”

She walked away, off of your porch and into the night. You shut the door.

§§

You figured that you would miss her, but it wasn’t as bad as it was in the early part of leaving. By the time you moved on, it was far past the date of the wedding and even further past your anniversary. Sometimes it still hurt to think about how your life could have been had she chosen to stay faithful, but you learned that the scenarios hurt more than they helped and stopped.

You had a steady job, could keep up with the rent on your apartment, had enough for groceries and even had spare to get your nails done if you wanted to. You were doing it all, and you were doing it well after being attached at the hip to someone else for years and years.

There was a time where you would have thought that living without Natasha would be excruciating. The first night after you stormed out and cried yourself to sleep, you were sure that it would be painful, every night without her next to you would be like a stab in the gut. But after a while, it really wasn’t.

At first, it was. You missed her terribly, and, a part of you still did. You missed the good things that happened, but you realized that the good didn’t erase the bad, and that the bad didn’t erase the good. So, after a long time of thinking about her, your stance on Natasha Romanoff wasn’t hateful, or upset, or vengeful. You barely had one.

You thought about her and saw a book that you had finished reading a long time ago. Impactful at the time you read it, of course, and it could leave a longing imprint, but it was over. You could never relive that exact moment ever again that you read her, not a good one or a bad one. The hardest, most intense part of it was over, so far behind you that you could breathe again. 

And damn, did it feel good to breathe. 

§§§

Seeing her was awkward, and it was something that came straight out of your outdated imagination. You were by yourself buying apples at the market that you always went to because you adored fresh fruit, checking for bruises on them that were never there. You were carrying four in a bag with a content look on your face, just walking around and looking at other fruits and vegetables when you felt someone’s eyes on you. You looked up.

Sam Wilson was looking right at you, his jaw a little slack as he recognized you. You hadn’t seen him since you stormed out of the compound god knows how long ago. Within seconds, your life at the tower and memories with him flashed in your head. You two would cook together side by side often, and that's where you would do most of your bonding and talking with him. Your heart clenched for a moment, and then you raised the hand that wasn’t occupied and gave him a wave and a half smile, one that you hoped told him that you weren’t angry.

You looked back to the vegetables and then at the sign on the table. Damn, that’s kind of expensive. You shrugged your shoulders and put the greens on the weighing machine anyway, and pulled the money out of your purse for it. You smiled at the vendor and left with your new bag, wiggling your eyes at the strawberry table and starting your approach. 

“Hi,” an achingly familiar voice called out while you were steps away from the table of deliciously red strawberries. You could smell them from where you were at. You turned around still, even after easily identifying who the voice belonged to. “How are you?”

She was as beautiful as ever, the top of her head under a blue ball cap and her eyebrows perfectly done. Her eyes were hidden by shades, but you didn’t need to see them to know what she was thinking. Her arms were loose at her sides, but her fingers were moving strangely, and you noticed them immediately as her nervous tick. You took in a deep breath. 

“I’m good, how about you?” You asked Natasha back, and she gave you a pained smile.

“I’m alright.”

“Oh, sweet,” you said, and then gave her a parting smile before turning towards the strawberries.

“Wait,” she called out.

You stopped and turned your head, even though you wanted more than anything to forget that you ran into her. “Yes?”

There was a moment of silence between you two, and then she took a step forward. “Are you still upset?” She asked, voice lower in volume than usual. 

You almost scoffed at her. “I’m an adult, I can’t really be sad for long or I’ll forget to pay a bill or something.”

“Can we talk?” She started, and you held up a hand.

“Let’s not open up old wounds,” you said, already knowing exactly where she was going with all of her hesitance and fiddling with her thumbs.

“I need to apologize for what happened.”

You shrugged. “I forgive you. Actually, I forgave you weeks and weeks ago. It’s okay. We can move on from it.” We need to move on from it. 

You saw your old lover’s face light up in just the slightest, but just as fast as you saw it, it was gone. Her lack of wanting to express to you didn’t hurt anymore. “We?”

“We can move on,” you repeated, “just not together.” Her face dropped at what you said, and you shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. “It’s in the past now.”

There was a pause, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. You wondered when your heart started to beat on its own again and not for the woman standing so close yet so far away. You wondered when you started to do anything for just yourself, and you wondered when you had stopped doing that in the first place. Her voice brought you out of your thoughts. “Is it?”

You almost had to ask her to remind you what the conversation was about. “Oh. It is,” you said gently, but your voice was still stern. “All good things must come to an end, and what we had was good. It was great, and that must have meant that we were destined to end fast.”

She shook her head slightly. “If you- if you forgive me, it doesn’t have to be over.”

“It does.” You looked at your phone and sighed. “I have to leave.”

“Okay,” She said softly after a moment, and finally took a step back. It was a small one, like her body was trying to override her brain. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you, Nat.” You saw her wince, and if you hadn’t made peace with everything, you would have, too.

She took another step back and cleared her throat, just as Sam started making his way over. She nodded at you, and you gave her a small smile, almost encouraging. Just walk away, this is the last time you’ll have to do it. “Later,” She said, her voice a little hoarse as she turned on her heel and walked right past Sam.

“Later” meant never. And you didn’t know if you were supposed to feel nothing or everything about it.

§§§

The last time you saw Natasha Romanoff was a year later, when you were holding hands with a pretty woman from an art show that you went to. She stole your heart with her work, and she turned out just as beautiful on the inside as she was with a brush, and on the outside. Her name was Julie, and she was great. She was honest. 

You really liked Julie. She wasn’t Natasha, though, and it was both refreshing and saddening, because you knew that what you felt with Natasha was a one time thing. You two had one chance to keep the bond that was seemingly inseparable and stronger than steel together, and everyone was rooting for you. And then, it just fell apart.

You knew that Natasha was your first actual love, and the only person who was ever going to be able to love you emotionally like you needed to be. The two of you were, in your mind, made for each other. If soulmates existed, Natasha would have been yours, and you would have been hers. You knew that even five years after not being with her, and while the hole in your heart wasn’t hollow, you had a feeling that a little something was always going to be cold, like a cavity that was never filled. Someone saying her name or asking about her was like chewing ice on it.

But people moved on. Just like you did. And you had moved on from the beautiful yet icy mountains of Natasha and into a soft and whimsical meadow, and that meadow was Julie. 

You were holding hands with Julie, arms swinging as you were leaving the donut shop and talking about silly things that made the both of you grin when you caught a familiar flash of red. Out of instinct, you looked over your shoulder, and what you saw made you freeze.

Natasha Romanoff was with a girl with brown skin and black hair that was glinting in the sunlight, and she wasn’t focused on the way that you and Natasha locked eyes in that moment, the moment that seemed to last years. You didn’t think you were still moving, and it certainly didn’t feel like you were taking a step, but you were. You saw her blue-green eyes blink at you, and like you were still stuck on the same wavelength after all that time, you both raised a hand and gave a timid wave, small smiles gracing the both of your faces.

You saw the girl tug lightly on Natasha’s arm, and your grin stretched. Natasha looked over at the girl, and an immediate smile, one similar but not quite the same as she used to give to you, was on her face. You turned your head forward, a light smile still on your own face as you watched it all happen in a split second.

You both kept walking.

*****

ahahaha wow, that hurt really bad actually - never doing angst again i’m a fluffy type of gal

so i’ve never done a taglist before! so i hope i’m doing it right otherwise this’ll make me look incredibly dumb-

@messuhp @username23345 @fishlikestuff @thelastavenger-3000 @grievingfortheliving @madamevirgo @dontmindmejustreading @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @sourpatchspinster @fayhar @sarcasticallywitty15 @normanijauregui

[obeymeluv]

You Steal the Boys’ Clothes

Something I’ve been thinking of for a while.

Lucifer

It was rare the eldest was without his cape, as everything seemed to be a formal event and he must be dressed to impress. Being dressed to impress, however, means being clean so he gets it cleaned from time to time

Lucifer is a very organized, practical man. Constantly towing the line of obsessive for the sake of orderliness.

He knows where his cape should be, and that it’s not there

With a demon’s-only screech that warns Mammon to stretch his calves and run, Lucifer hunts down the three most likely suspects to interrogate them (Mammon, Satan, and Belphegor).

He tries to get a two-for-one by dragging Mammon into the study where Satan sits smugly with a book (because he knows he didn’t do it but MAN is he enjoying this!)

Imagine surprising not one, but THREE demons when you come shuffling down the hall with a Lucifer’s cape wrapped around you like a blanket.

It whispers and it drags and it absolutely DROWNS you.

Very charming. Ethereal, almost like some sort of wedding wear

Lucifer would’ve never imagined you’d be the culprit, and now his poor brain is trying to save and process the idea of you looking so sleepy-happy in his clothes

And the ex-angel falls all over again.

He catches the little cheek nuzzle and way you bunch it around your body, a foot poking out not to get tangled

Satan and Mammon will probably die laughing instead of at his hands, but Lucifer could really care less

Lucifer idly wonders where you’d curled up that he totally missed you, and escorts you gently but red-faced to your room

Satan and Mammon tag along, and when they see Lucifer come out with his cape they can only deduce he put you to bed.

Mammon

With no homework to do and some money in the bank, Mammon was ready to spend the weekend tearing up the town with you!

He was fresh out of the shower and mostly dressed, searching feverishly for his beloved white and brown jacket

Mammon wasn’t the cleanest person by nature (hello, money hoarder and collector of interesting/valuable things) so he tidied up as he went

As he started to suspect one of his little brothers was holding the jacket for ransom, he sent out a group text asking about it

There were several typical smart-ass responses (Lucifer, Asmo, and Satan) and he was in the middle of a snark fight when you showed up at his door somewhere between bashful and chill

In HIS jacket

Mammon’s brain shuts down.

HIS baby in HIS jacket? HELL YEAH! OH GOD, IT’S TOO PERFECT!

FIEND, TAKING HIS HEART!

“It’s kind of a human thing,” you explain. “There is a one-jacket fee among couples. Usually it’s a hoodie.” you tease, reluctant to shrug it off, “But this seems to be your only jacket so I guess I could give it back.”

It’s very subtle, but he’s worn that jacket for centuries and no amount of detergent can disguise the scent that makes his heart skip a beat

Something about the smell of your skin and a hint of his has him purring

You hold the jacket out to him. Mammon wraps his fingers around it and swings it around until he’s holding it over one shoulder

The yellow takes over in his eyes a little more. Gets a little brighter and intense.

“You want to take anything else off?” he husks playfully

Your day out turns into staying in and Mammon is happy to trade his jacket for a shirt you can sleep in (like, forever. It’s fine. Whatever, dummy.)

Leviathan

It was actually really hard to steal Levi’s clothes because he lived in his hoodie and turtleneck. His RAD uniform was really just for show and that wasn’t what you were looking for, anyways. You didn’t want to chill in uniform.

He was very particular about his merch because certain shirts were collector’s items and he didn’t like people messing with his folding patterns

You went to Asmo with your dilemma and he found it absolutely ADORABLE. It was almost enough to make him jealous, really

Somehow (Asmo being Asmo?), the fifth- born was able to swipe one of the green button-ups Levi wore under his RAD uniform

His first thought was to alter the garment to make it fit you (matching outfits? YES!) but Levi would probably kill him. His big bro hated shopping for clothes unless he HAD to have them.

Asmo gets the bright idea to magically/temporarily alter the fabric to fit you. Maybe Levi will like it so much he’ll just give you a shirt! 💖 (Or get some fucking outside time and go buy more shirts!)

Levi catches his own scent somewhere outside of the door and his brain goes off. He hits the pause button at lightning speed.

No one else smells like him! They haven’t shared bath products in centuries! He already finished his laundry so what’s happening?!

His first thought is: Mammon broke into my room while I was in the bathroom and stole something to pawn!

Levi doesn’t even think to take inventory of his stuff, barging out of his room to hunt down his big brother

He’s yelling and whining before he even sees him. Then he sees you. In his shirt.

All the angry words die in his throat as the absolute mortification and adoration sets his face on fire

SO KAWAII! It basically makes up for your normie-ness.

Levi’s stuck standing there, blushing his head off and unable to say anything as his fists shake with joy and nervousness

He gets a nosebleed. One of his brothers are laughing at him.

You guide him back to his room to take care of him, Levi lets you and becomes very fascinated with the idea of you in his clothes .Lots of petting and figuring out you look DOUBLY MEGA CUTE when the magic wears off and you’re just in a pool of fabric.

He’s totally down for matching clothes and definitely lets you keep the one you’re wearing.

Satan

His wardrobe is very...interesting...to say the least

Colors and personal combinations aside, Satan actually has a very smart wardrobe. Lots of basics and easy layers.

You can’t steal his signature green sweater or the blazer he seems to live in, so you settle for an emerald knit sweater that has a bit of a v-neck/university feel to it

It takes Satan a while to notice, as he’s buried in a book. You two tend to gravitate towards each other and just enjoy a cozy, companionable silence

He’s just finished a book and is debating cracking open one from the stack to his left when the color catches his eye

The smooth, sly comment dies on his lips when he realizes he likes the damn thing because IT’S HIS

You look very cozy and warm. It’s a very ‘cuddle me’ kind of look.

Perhaps you could warm his lap? Or give his poor hands a rest under the hem?

Very cheeky and clever. Grabs you by the sleeve of it just to ‘answer his curiosity about whether it matched his nails’.

Does he have a cute university student kink? If he didn’t, he does now?

There’s a 50-50 chance of you guys having sex.

Will definitely want to hold you and cuddle you close, petting the fabric and whispering compliments into it.

If you don’t already have a business/academic attire, Satan will definitely suggest a few pieces because YES. This is a thing he loves and it DOES things to him.

Asmodeus

He’s the type to let you think you stole something

Probably stages what he wants you to steal just so you take it

Honestly, I could just see him dumping some of his clothes on you because you’re dating now and this is a cute thing he read about!

It’s super likely he’s into couple outfits or coordinating outfits, so he’s either spent time in his closet pre-planning or asked you to try on a million things just because

This cutie pie purposely orders THE BIGGEST thing he can find so you can both fit in it at the same time

Asmo loves you to pieces no matter what, but seeing you in his clothes makes him squeal and hit a note Mammon has threatened to murder him over

Ever dramatic, this is like, THE BEST THING EVER

A MILLION Devilgram posts about it (safe ones, of course)

Do you guys spark a couple’s trend and spade of lover’s stealing each other’s clothes to snap a victory pic? Maybe

Probably fake faints at the sheer glory of you in HIS bomb ass clothes. Definitely fans himself

Spoils you rotten with compliments

This man is weak. “Gorgeous! Smother me.” as he falls back on the bed and gestures to his face

He won’t turn down the idea of sexy times (depends on your libido, comfort, etc.) but sometimes he makes raunchy jokes just to be funny. Smothering could also mean using him like a body pillow (which he’s totally okay with).

You get max cuddles and WILL be the envy of Devilgram

Beelzebub

Beel felt a little guilty for leaving you at the House of Lamentation with his brothers

You guys were supposed to hang out after school but there was an emergency practice. The coach always got pre-game jitters and demanded a few last runs. He showered and ran back to the House, hoping you still had time for him.

He tiptoed quietly into his shared room, unsurprised to find you waiting there for him. You’d been caught in Belphie’s sleepy little aura by the looks of it,

Beelzebub couldn’t help the grin or little hum that made it past his lips. Your eyes were open but he didn’t know if you actually saw him. You looked super cute in his humongous bed though

You were getting sleepier and sleepier, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Beel pulled the sheets over you and gentle untangled the arm you managed to latch on to

Maybe waking up to a bit of food would make up for everything! Beel toiled away in the kitchen, making a cute little snack tray for the two of you.

In reality, it could probably feed at least twenty, and he ate at least half of what he prepped.

Beel returned to the room with what he considered a decent amount (scraps, kind of, but enough variety! He tried! It’s the thought that counts!) and was surprised to see his sheets all tangled and half-kicked from the bed

You were wearing his jacket now, passed out and turned into the furry lining that usually went across his shoulders and neck

DId you sleep walk? He was trying to understand how you’d gotten into his jacket

Beel realized it was the first time you’d been in his clothes and it was enough to make his heart melt

Super huge on you, obviously (extra fabric everywhere), but so cute! He could basically swaddle you in his jacket

“They’re a restless sleeper,” Belphie yawned. “I thought it would help them calm down.”

It used to work on Belphie, so Beel could see why he resorted to it

Beel offered his twin some food, sitting carefully on your other side.

He shifted some of the parka fur away from your face, trying to fix your hair and nudge your chin up so your nose wasn’t buried in anything. He stroked your cheek a little, mesmerized by the sight of you and how you felt.

Belphie declined, muttering something about, ‘Stop looking like that and eat your food! Gross!’ before Beel settled for patting your head one last time and eating quietly

Belphegor

He’s another one that’s hard to steal from

You’d think it’d be easy since he sleeps all the time, but Belphie really only wears 10% of the clothes he buys

Yes, he’s a pajama snob and has all things comfy and cozy, but hardly any of them smell like him because he falls asleep anywhere with little issue (no special clothes required!)

You thought about stealing his blue cardigan with the pocket, but he’s always sleeping in it!

Belphie picks up on your train of thought, and the frustration, because you fall asleep thinking about it. Dreaming about coyly stealing his cardigan and being all cute and snuggly in bed

It’s enough to wake him up, shuffle to you, and break your sleep. He flops down on your bed with his cardigan unbuttoned and says ‘climb on’ while patting his chest

You’re obviously sleepy and confused and he loves it. Belphie slides you onto his chest and wraps his arms around you, resting bits of the fabric on your back as you settle into him

It’s not the same but it’s close enough

Would you be offended if he got you cow pajamas so he could snuggle you like his favorite pillow? He falls asleep wondering about the answer

He wakes up to see that Beel has covered the two of you with his favorite blanket.

You in his blanket? Against him? Slowly smelling of him and his clothes? It’s the best thing to fall asleep to.

Makes a joke out of your clothes-stealing quest by stripping one of his pillowcases off and putting you in it like a little sack. You have to stay on his bed now because you’re his pillow and all pillows stay on the bed.

“What? You wanted to smell like me! It’s something I use!“ Belphie defends as you wonder whether or not you like this human pillow thing while he snuggles you.

[vs-redemption]

From Cindy: This bad boy got away from me and ended up being 3,674 words. I’m really happy with it though and I hope you think so too. It was written for a writing collaboration on Discord ( @konoblog-simps )

Gray - Soulmate AU (Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader)

Read a similar soulmate AU for Levi here

You hated winter.

You supposed people found something magical about the view of fluffy white flakes catching the light as they drifted down from the sky and created a thick white blanket across the ground and trees. However, the fairy tale description was only true when observed from the other side of a window where the protection of four walls and a fireplace could block out the harsh reality.

“Don’t forget the shopping on your way back.” Your grandmother’s raspy voice cuts through the morning silence as you go through the tedious process of bundling up against the frigid weather you knew you’d be facing as soon as you stepped outside. The elderly woman was sitting in her favorite spot on the sofa, lap covered by one of the many blankets she’d made over the years. You grandfather shuffled into the room as if on cue with two piping hot mugs of tea. He hands one to his wife before settling happily into the place next to her.

“I never do.” Your words come out harsher than you’d intended, but your grandparents pay you no mind. They were either used to your attitude or too wrapped up in their own happily ever after. You finish off your ridiculously bulky outfit by shoving a knit cap over your head and then heading out into the cold.

You hated your job

You knew you should be grateful that you had the luxury of owning an apothecary. It was the type of establishment that would never want for business. There was also a certain pride in being able to provide people with medicines to relieve them of their aches and pains, allergies, and illnesses. The difficulty was in being surrounded by the memories of your parents and the perfect life they’d lived, as well as the constant reminder that you’d been robbed of the chance to experience that type of fantasy.

Trudging through the deep wet snow had made you a few minutes late, and there were already a few customers waiting outside the tiny shop you’d inherited by the time you arrived. You apologize politely as you unlock the door and let them inside, shedding the layers of your winter clothes as quickly as you can so that you can get to work. It was always a little busier in the winter months, but finding the right remedy for each person was something you’d gotten good at over time. Most customers came and went without much trouble, but assisting the regulars who’d known you since childhood was always a bit awkward. You did your best not to notice the pity and judgement on their faces as you prepared their orders with the same forced pleasantness as you did for everyone else.

You hated shopping

Having a job that earned enough wages to properly provide for yourself and your family was a blessing most people in your city could not enjoy. Your parents had always made sure to remind you of that fact whenever they came home with baskets full of fresh fruits and vegetables, cheese, bread, and sometimes even meat. As an adult, you still appreciated the fact that you did not have to know hunger, but it was always such a hassle to deal with the crowded market after getting off work.

When your parents had been alive, they had loved going out to run these types of errands together. It had always surprised you how they would choose to spend more time together even after living and working with each other every single day. They never seemed to get tired of each other, and you could remember vividly the way they’d smiled at each other with pure happiness and love in their gaze. It was hard to forget when you saw the same blissful look on every couple you happened to encounter as you went about your day. It made you feel so incredibly alone sometimes, but you did your best to bury those emotions deep down out of fear that they would consume you completely.

“How much is the bread today?” You ask the baker once you make it to the counter through the throngs of people. He tells you the price and begins to wrap up your order when you agree to it.

“You’re lucky,” he tells you conversationally. “This is the last loaf of the day.”

“Tch!” A frustrated sound comes from behind you and you turn around instinctively to make sure nothing was wrong. Standing next to you was a grouchy looking man with silky black hair, styled in an undercut. The long, soft looking strands on the top of his head came down to frame his face, drawing attention to the most important feature; his eyes. You notice right away they are both the identical shade of gray, which told you a lot about him already.

“Were you waiting in line?” You ask curiously even though meeting his sharp gaze directly was a bit intimidating. He regards you critically for a moment before sighing and looking away, probably forming his own judgments based on the incorrect story told by your own eyes.

“It’s fine,” his tone of voice is flat and a little dismissive. “I should’ve gotten here earlier.” He turns to walk away but something makes you call out to stop him.

“Wait,” you give him the friendliest smile you can muster before looking to the baker. “Please, wrap this up for him instead. I insist.” The baker shrugs, not really bothered by the change as long as he got his payment. The scowl on the man’s face gave way to surprise, and you thought the softer look suited him much better. You could see that he was preparing to reject your kindness, so you mutter a quick goodbye before turning away and blending in with the crowd.

You hated your eyes

In the world you lived in, everything revolved around a person’s eyes. They were more than just a mere window into the soul, they were also a glimpse into the future. As a child, you could recall the excitement of your friends as they studied the mismatched colors of each other’s irises, speculating wildly about which shade truly belonged to them and which was borrowed from a stranger that they were destined to meet sometime in the future. Their enthusiasm had been contagious in the beginning, and you’d enjoyed listening to people discuss their predictions about the background, appearance, and personality of their future partner.

“Did you get everything on the list?” Your grandfather asks as he takes the basket of food from you once you finally return home. The walk back from the market had been miserable. Your feet were cold and wet from sloshing through the snow, but the rest of you was warm and sweaty from the exertion of hauling the purchases all the way back while wearing so many thick layers.

“They were out of bread,” You inform him while shrugging out of your coat. A look of displeasure passed over his face but vanished just as quickly when your grandmother called to him from the kitchen. You were relieved that she was volunteering to make dinner this time, because the exhaustion from your day was starting to catch up with you.

You head into the bathroom, ready to warm up with a hot shower and put on a fresh pair of clothes while the meal was prepared. As you wait for the water from the tap to heat up, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Usually you avoided looking at your face for too long, but every now and then you decided to stare back at yourself for a moment. You frown as you meet the gaze of the two identical eyes that you’d be born with. They looked mockingly back at you from the glass, their dull gray hue like a running joke that you’d never found remotely funny.

Washing away the grime of the day helped clear your head of negative thoughts, and soon your mind drifted back to the man you’d helped at the market. The memory of his eyes reminded you that you had made the right decision. He was the one who had someone important waiting for him back at home, possibly even children that needed to be fed and taken care of. You and your grandparents would be just fine as you always had, even if there was a spark of jealousy in you that the man got to have the type of wholesome future that you could never enjoy.

You hated soulmates

The idea of having the comfort of knowing there was someone out there born specifically to fill your life with joy, support, and love was an overwhelming one. It was hard for you to really imagine what it must be like for people to be filled with that nervous anticipation every time they got the opportunity to meet someone new. You’d had secondhand experiences as you watched friends and acquaintances around you find their destinies in one another, but while those meetings spelled out the beginning of something wonderful for them, it only served to make you feel the bleakness of your situation more profoundly.

It was extremely rare for someone to be born without a soulmate, and although your parents tried to have a positive outlook, you had still felt the stigma associated with your condition every single day of your life. It had been impossible to escape the stares and gasps of astonishment from both adults and children alike during you school-age years. Most of them had never seen a child your age with two of the same colored eyes, so it was inevitable that you’d garnered quite a bit of unwanted attention. The people you met were merely curious at first, but as you got older the intrigue turned to pity.

As hard as it was to deal with the people around you who knew the truth, meeting strangers was almost worse. Those who still walked around with duel colored eyes held little interest in someone who had seemingly already found their partner, and everyone else was too preoccupied with their own established lives to pay attention to you at all. In the world you lived in, everything revolved around a person’s eyes. Unfortunately, your eyes had landed you into one of the loneliest roles imaginable.

You hated your luck

It should not have surprised you as much as it did when the man from the market walked into your apothecary a few days later, but considering the fact he’d been popping up in your thoughts sporadically ever since the first meeting, it certainly caught you off guard to see his face again. By the way his familiar gray eyes widened upon seeing you standing behind counter, you guessed he hadn’t been expecting to see you again either.

“Hello again,” you smile awkwardly to try and clear the air. You weren’t sure if it would be weird to mention the bread incident or not.

“Hello,” the man nods, his facial features relaxing into a neutral expression. You were glad he didn’t seem to be as agitated as he’d been in the market. “I’m looking for something that might help my mother. She’s recently fallen ill and nothing I do seems to be helping.”

“What are her symptoms?” The question falls naturally from your lips. As the man describes his mother’s condition, you find yourself taking in his appearance in more detail. His black hair looked as soft as you remembered, but now you were noticing other things like the shape of his nose and sharp angle of his jawline. The clothes he wore were on the nicer side, and it made you wonder what he did for a living. His stature was a bit on the shorter side, and although his build was lean, you got the impression that he was healthy and strong.

“Well, it seems like she may have caught a flu,” you explain once the man finishes speaking. You turn to grab a few items from the shelf behind you and place them on the counter. “These should work to control the symptoms and reduce her fever until her body is able to fight off the infection.”

“Thank you,” he sounds genuine as he pulls out some money to pay for the medicine. You accept the payment, taking note of his long, elegant hands and fingers.

“Not at all,” you assure him with an easy smile. “I hope your mother recovers quickly.”

The man nods in gratitude while scooping up the goods he’d purchased in his hands. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before looking back up to catch your gray eyes with his own.

“My name’s Levi, by the way.” The confidence in his voice did not match the anxious set of his features. “We didn’t get to have a proper introduction the other day.”

“O-oh,” there was no way to conceal the shock you felt in that moment. It was out of the ordinary for anyone to give you their name, especially a man who had obviously had his encounter with fate already. You manage to stutter out your own name, wondering if you were having some sort of intensely realistic dream as you watch the man’s lips twitch into the smallest, briefest of smiles.

“A pleasure to meet you,” he repeats your name to himself thoughtfully. “Have a nice day.” With all his business with you completed, he nods his head and exits your shop, leaving you to try and tame the wild racing of your thoughts and heart.

You hated false hope

It was embarrassing how often you had to remind yourself over the next few days that a person simply introducing themselves to you should not be taken as anything more than polite kindness. You had seemingly lost all control of your mind and feelings though, since scarcely a moment went by now without thoughts of Levi sending butterflies fluttering around in your stomach. It didn’t seem fair that you knew so little about him, but you understood that you’d have to be content with the memory of his ghost of a smile and the echo of the way your name had sounded as it escaped his lips. Part of you hoped you’d never see the man again so that you could get over your delusions as quickly and easily as possible, but another part of you longed to bump into him again.

“What are you doing in here?” Your grandmother walked into the bathroom to find you leaning over the sink, eyes wide open and focused so intensely on your reflection in the mirror that you hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Huh?” you whirl around to face her, finally blinking once you realized how tired your eyes were from the thorough examination you’d just given them. “What did it feel like after you met Grandpa?”

Your stomach sank immediately at the pitying look that grew on the old woman’s face. She reaches out to rub your arm sympathetically with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry sweetie,” is all she tells you before changing the subject completely. “Excuse me now, I need to use the restroom.”

“Right, sorry.” You offer a dry laugh as you move out of her way, reality rushing back like a harsh slap to the face. You’d known all along that you’d never really have a soulmate, but it was hard not to have grasped on to the small shred of a possibility. It hadn’t slipped your attention that Levi also had gray eyes, but plenty of people had the same or similar shade. Besides, the likeliness of soulmates having the same exact eye color was even rarer than someone being born without a soulmate at all. You vowed to keep these cold hard truths at the forefront of your mind from now on, and resigned yourself completely to the fate you’d been dealt.

You loved Levi

It had been a whole week since you’d given up the last loaf of bread that had sent your life into a strange whirlwind of new, unexplored emotions. The days between then and the present had been interesting indeed, but now you were determined to go back to life as normal. The weather wasn’t so terrible today, but you still bundled up to prepare yourself for the cold morning walk to the Apothecary. You arrived at the shop with plenty of time to remove the layers of winter clothes and do a quick inventory of items you’d soon need to restock.

It was around lunchtime when you really started to relax back into your routine. The steady flow of customers had helped to keep your mind occupied, and once things slowed down around midday, you picked up a rag and began to wipe down the counters and windows absentmindedly. The sound of the bell above the door alerted you to someone’s arrival and you quickly tossed down the rag and turned to greet them. Once again, you find yourself startled to be standing in the presence of the man from the market.

“Levi,” you mutter his name before shaking out of your daze. “Excuse me,” you look down and apologize in embarrassment. “Um, can I help you with something? Is your mother feeling better?”

“She’s much better, yes. Thank you.” Levi clears his throat awkwardly and you can’t help but think his posture is stiffer than you remember. You wonder again what he did for a living because he seemed to be a bit overdressed for a simple trip to the apothecary. He looked incredibly handsome in any case, and it was doing nothing to help quiet your wandering imagination.

“I’m glad to hear that,” you weren’t sure what else to say. You walk over to the small faucet behind the counter to wash your hands since you’d just been cleaning. The silence between you both grew more and more uncomfortable until Levi’s face suddenly contorts with frustration. You open your mouth to apologize for whatever you’d done but he cuts you off by coming forward suddenly and placing both hands on the counter.

“Your eyes,” he forces out the words before averting his own gaze. Any hope of keeping yourself grounded in reality seemed to go up in smoke as your heart rate kicked into overdrive.

“Yes?” you say breathlessly and the fact that you weren’t kicking him out for being incredibly inappropriate was enough to spur him on with whatever point he was trying to get to.

“How long?” he swallows thickly and takes a deep breath, “How long since they’ve changed?”

“They’ve always been this way,” it should’ve been harder to admit, but the way Levi was acting was distracting you from the shame you’d normally be feeling. A soft sound, like an intrigued sigh, escapes his lips and he covers his mouth with those beautiful long fingers you’d been trying not to think about. All you can do is stare at him as he comes to terms with the information you’d just revealed. You wondered why he’d even want to know and what he would do now that the truth was out in the open. Finally, after an unbearable stretch of time, Levi lowers his hand back onto the counter, revealing a faint but amused looking smile.

“Well,” his confidence began to return. “They look much better on you than they do on me.”

“What?” Every cell in your body seemed to be buzzing with anticipation. You wanted to believe that this was all leading up to something good, but a nagging fear in the back of your mind warned you against giving in to the false hope that you’d vowed to ignore.

“I was born with these eyes as well,” Levi confesses calmly while gesturing to his face. “Both of them.”

It was your turn to cover your mouth, wondering desperately if it was all right yet to dare to dream that there was meaning behind what was happening after all.

“I have no idea if this is all a coincidence or not,” Levi shrugs as his mouth pulls into a frown. “To be honest, I gave up on the idea of soulmates a long time ago, but I cannot ignore the fact that you’ve consumed my thoughts from the moment I saw you in the market.”

Tears unwittingly begin to blur your vision as all the tension inside you finally reaches a tipping point.

“I…” You aren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. Levi’s hand appears in front of your face, offering a handkerchief. You accept it gratefully and wipe the wetness from your eyes and cheeks. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you either.”

Levi folds his arms over his chest as if contemplating the matter seriously, but the pause only lasts a few seconds this time. Before you have time to worry about what he’ll say, he’s offering you his hand.

“Would you like to be my soulmate then?” he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice despite the nervous energy surrounding you both. You don’t hesitate to place your hand into his. You weren’t sure if your matching eyes was a sign that you were meant to be together, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you to throw away the shot of having the kind of life you’d watched other people enjoy your entire lives. If you were able to bring each other happiness, you could care less if it was what fate had planned.

“Yes,” Your voice shook with the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, “I think I’d like that.”

“As would I,” Levi replies as a real smile takes over his face at last. The hope you see in the depths of his beautiful gray eyes makes you appreciate the matching color of your own for the very first time, and the idea of a happy future finally seems within your grasp.

[syubub]

May 13th Reading

Definitely long awaited and way bigger than I intended it to be so buckle up.

Funky disclaimer: this is for entertainment purposes only and not to be taken as fact! This is my interpretation of the cards!

Oh boy. The continuation of yoongis soulmate saga.

(Note frome future me: it's not proofread but I'm hungry. Sorry for mistakes!)

So so so so

Let's start.

I started with all the normal jazz. Connecting with his energy and shit. Same as usual same old same old. Platform= same same. I was like, "hey, let's talk about your soulmate and the whole may 13th shit" and we connected via energy stringy thing to the forehead and such. I was intresting bc my end of the string was kinda my energy color! Neato. Looks like some rest has really done me good!

Okay, here's where I start actually asking shit. I made notes at this point before the reading as I usually do. I'm just gonna insert the screen shot here.

The 14 thing really fucked me up. You'll see later. Also, when I got the whole Pisces Jupiter thing I had to do me some googling bc we established that Jupiter went into Pisces ON May 13th so I was like?? Am I missing something?

I was. I forgot that it goes retrograde and then co.es back to Pisces on December 28th. And I do indeed think it to be significant.

The shit about temperance makes a lot of sense. In yoongis first soulmate read I flipped my shit bc he was like, "You're gonna get temperance reverse" in regards to a card for his soulmate and I was like "pft whatever. Don't play me like that"

And then I got temperance reverse. It's been a significant card from the jump.

I asked him if he had any advice for his soulmate and that's what "Don't wait for big things, you'll miss the small ones that lead you to bigger things" and "Look for facts before assuming" and "Don't try pushing it, forcing it won't make sense" and "A spade is a spade/ ace is an ace" and "Don't make ill informed guesses" all were

Now this part:

"Union has happened , yet to on the physical"

Gave me some hints thankfully because he straight up said no more hints.

This ties back into the whole Jupiter thing too. The seeds are/ have been planted and now they have to grow before they can be harvested.

Well Mr. Yoongi, I'm impatient and I don't want to wait. I want to see you in love pronto.

Anyways

He showed me a little dream box/ trinket box looking thing and a super vague Keychain with no further explanation... so... there's that I guess.

I can't quite decide if "Don't make ill informed guesses" was a tongue-in-cheek pike at me or if it was genuine advice to his soulmate? He just loves to not explain things.

Now let's begin the monster read.

So. The first row of cards

I asked the question, "what the fuck was May 13th and what was it's purpose in regards to your connection"

Important is what it was lol. I interpret this as them finding their footing and this being the starting point of the genuine foundation being layer. Like they've been manifesting eachother for a while but May 13th marked the start of them making the real life changes in their actual lives that will be the set up for them meeting.

The seven of coins is about thoughtful planning and creating security/ stable plan. The tower is essentially ripping away anything and everything that was built on unstable foundation and challenging/ testing your character (an extremely rude awakeing if you will). Judgement is releasing the past so you can rise above it and confronting yourself as you are (Also legit awakening) the queen of coins is financial security and self confidence in your abilities. Ten of coins is prosperity and abundance and most of all, stability. Eight of wands is explosion of potential and rapid movement. Temperance is awareness and balance between physical and spiritual. It's also that quiet peace where you find balance.

So. Seeing all those cards it really does seem like maybe his soulmate took on something new that could lead straight to union? Same for yoongi. I'd like to analyze and recent or new-ish habits or hobbies he's picked up?

Moving right along though. I asked what the 13th did for each of them in their personal life and personal journey. Kinda like what came as a result of that energy? Let's start with yoongles

This was really intresting to me. I think he definitely gained some form of clarity about the situation with that sun card. The 5 of cups tells me that either he was kinda forced to confront some of his flaws in a way that he was trying to avoid or he had to consciously let go of something dear to him? Could be something he had to leave behind because it crumbled with the tower moment but he didn't see it coming or didn't know that it was time to part with it? With that queen of wands though fits beautifully with the sun! Its like he's found warmth after a long winter. Definitely found a spark of compassion and generosity from a place of happiness and love rather than anger, fear, obligation or pitty.

I asked for clarity cards/ anything else that may 13th signified bringing in and we got the 2 of cups and 10 of swords. I have two thoughts. Either he let go of a relationship that he was already in because he didn't feel as though they were particularly compatible anymore (Also ties into the above section) OR the 13th had made him very much consciously aware of his soulmates incoming status and he is now preparing and working on himself for when this person comes. The 10 of swords would be him releasing the past and the pain and any ill fitting behavior that don't vibe with him any longer. Yellow really seems to be working for him by the way.

Soulmate time

Lol. All signs point to his soulmate genuinely starting a new venture. New creative pursuit that will bring them good money. 10 of pentacles is abundance, prosperity and stability. The ace of wands is a new creative spark and passion and it's the first big steps into something new. The 2 of wands is "the world is in the palm of your hands" vibes. Choices need to be made swiftly and with the ace of wands I think they will be. With the heirophant too, it will be a well informed decision because they've been manifesting this and has been searching for all the possible information.

As for clarity, we have the moon. Damn. Soulmates been doing that shadow work. Dredging up all their bullshit and getting rid of it while still taking the time to sit with it and release it so nothing is unresolved. Also probably extra creative due to all the emotional baggage being thrown out. (Definitely helping with the ace of wands vibes tbh)

Now for the bad boys in the middle

The question I asked is what those individual changes (detailed in the last two sections) will bring for the bond and I just can with them. These fuckers. I am so invested in their love story bc it's so... them? And just so fucking ROMANTIC. UGH I CAN'T.

Back to the point. High priestess, 4 of wands and the lovers. The high priestess is deep knowing and insane intuition, the 4 of wands is the purest joy and marriage and the lovers is well, the lovers.a magical union.

FUCK DUDE I NEED THIS TO BE A ROMCOM.

For the row of bottom cards

I asked if they had anything at all to add so I'm gonna explain each card individually bc I think they could be individual tid bits of shit.

Knight of coins is good news about finances/ money looking promising and organized work (also dependability!!). Death is all about transformation, the beginning of a new chapter and accepting in order to move foward. Ace of coins is spiritual and material abundance and also a reminder to keep grounded. Page of swords is confidence, important news coming and really good insight! Roots out secrets or hidden things like a truffle pig. The star is promising potential, healing and guidance from an enexpected place. The two of cups is a soul connection, love, intuition especially in regards to another person and a good bind. The emperor is self awareness, foresight, fearlessness to achieve a goal and confidence. Eight of coins rev is poor discipline and skating by on low effort.

Now to the sides!

Yoongi is the left, soulmate is the right.

So, let's begin with yoongi. The first two cards are anything he wants to say to his soulmate. Wheel of fortune and three of swords reverse. I take this as "its all in divine time/ it's destiny" (wheel of fortune) and "trust your intuition. It's okay to get hurt, you just need to remember you can always pick yourself up" (3of swords rev.)

We have now cards that I asked what he was learning through this process/ in this time. Be positive and first step.

The last two cards are affirmations he wants to give his soulmate.

"When I introduce joy to a situation, I change the vibrational frequency of what's happening around me" and "directing my focus onto what's thriving creates more of what I want"

Now for soulmates cards (same structure)

Strength and eight of swords. "You're stronger than you think. Take every part of yourself and acknowledge it. You're a force to be reckoned with" (strength) and (soulmate snapped at him on this) "the only thing holding you captive is you."

Now we have peer pressure (I think soulmate is learning to say "fuck you" and "fuck off" to people who have a set idea of how everyone should be living their lives), emotional healing and open your arms to receiving.

Then we have "its good to feel good" (lol I feel like yoongi definitely needs this one) and "when I connect to the spiritual realm, I open the door to recieve divine guidance, clear direction, and great wisdom"

The last stretch my friends.

So. Completion, leave behind the things that no longer serve you. Exist in the present and don't keep mulling over the past or any future happenings. Magic, pay attention to the magic around you. Listen for the signs of the universe and take them as they come (essentially listen to divine guidance) . Be open minded but logical as well. Luminous warrior, try focusing on the good in yourself instead of berating yourself for every small flaw. Spiritual path, self explanatory. The blade, your power can be a weapon when used willy nilly (most often wounding the wielder) or it can heal. Don't fear it but also consider how you choose to utilize it. The give away, be greaful for the sake of being greatful for it, not because you want something in return. The rain maker, manifestation station. Create with the tools you have because you have everything you need in order to manifest. "Don't take life personally"

Now we have heaven sent.

""Let yourself be helped" assistance is coming your way so act on it and say yes"

" This Oracle also comes with the message that you are to trust in the things that you feel and say to others without knowing why. It moves them. You might not understand, but through trust you are allowing yourself not to overthink and censor yourself. As such you are able to become a vessel through which the spiritual gift can be passed on to others. Don't block yourself. Let life happen through you. Only benefit can come from this."

And free from judgment, free to love

" If you have been asking life for a solution to a specific difficulty you have been having, this Oracle comes with the message that a solution is in gestation right now. This situation is already being sorted out and the resolution will come to fruition very soon. Hold tight and wait for the eminent birth of that resolution."

" This Oracle also brings you a message about love. You may find that you are loving, or soon will love, in a different way. You may worry about this love, given that it defies what you have known or been taught about love. Perhaps you are becoming able to love another tremendously, even though you don't have much of a personal relationship with them. You might question if this love is real. It is real Kama it is just happening at a different level to the love and attachment you experience when you are involved in a personal relationship with someone. It is not more or less, it is just a different facet of love. It may be that you are opening up to love the planet and her creatures, including the animals, the ocean dwelling life, your own body, the trees and so on, more than before period you may feel passionately purposeful about giving your time and energy to causes that protect and nurture the Earth and her creatures. You are affirmed in this love too. The universal mother is operating through you to nurture life. She will support you in your work, so that you can continue To come from love and not become drained, depleted or lost in despair or fear of futility. Instead, you will be energised and expanded by your dedicated service to life."

" Finally, this Oracle has a message for those who may be feeling alone or lonely in a need of greater nurturing from others. You are asked to stop, relax, centre and settle into your body to feel your connection with life itself. The air in your lungs is the same as the air that moves through the trees. The water in your blood is the same water that fills the oceans and is moved by the phases of the moon. The flesh of your body is the same substance as the body of the Earth itself. The heat in your digestive system is the same fire and heat as that from the Sun. Feel this connection, then do something nice for another without agenda. Make a donation, even if just a small one, smile, say a prayer, sent out a good thought or make a wish for another. That's it. You have connected to life again and in doing so, life can connect with you. And so it shall.

And that's all for the cards but but but.

Someone (either my guide or yoongi) was like, "do a song. Do a song. Do a song." And I was like, "oki doki, sounds good.

So I asked what numbers I should try refreshing and then it hit me. The number 14 came up before the reading and it seemed a bit misplaced? So I did 14 shuffles and look what popped up

You gotta be fucking with me.

Istg these fools will actually be the death of me dude. Euphoria is so romantic and I lowkey feels like it describes a bit of what their bond must be like.

YOONGGGIIII

Anyway,

I came back to the platform to be like, "thanks homie" and it was weird bc he was practically pure energy? Like usually I visualize his energy as what his physical body looks like because it's easier to comprehend? But nope, he was just a big shimmery glob of energy.

As I was going to disconnect, a few things happened. I felt tingly and the platform was vibrating almost? So I was like, "hold on, what the fuck is this?"

And then

It hit me

"MIN YOONGI IS YOUR SOULMATE HERE??"

I could tell this fuckin asshole was smug even in his blue glob form.

The color was... blue like yoongi but also a light lavender/ pink kinda vibe. Pretty damn distinct.

I was so stoked and I thought we'd all get to chat and I could yell at his soulmate for being an elusive asshat

But Mr smug butt had different plans.

My dude dropped a little marble thing in my hand and I was like ??? And he was like, "you'll know when you need it" and I was like ?????

My guide took pity on me and said, "it's just a representation on information that you've been given but it isn't the proper time to unpack it yet"

Cool cool so like and energetic zip file that will release itself whenever it damn well pleases? Cool cool cool.

(Asshole)

Anyway, I genuinely think that my excitement of this whole situation must somehow also influence how yoongis energy handles my prodding? Like what the fuck is this marble bullshit?

To top it all off, he gives me a friendly shove off of his platform.

Thanks, buddy.

Now we are here. And as always, I'm left with more questions.

My main take away is that amay 13th through July 28th will be all the foundation and ground work and December 28th 2021 through May 10th (11th? 9th?) 2022 will be a more likely time for physical union and actual relationship stuffs.

Anyone who knows more about astrology please feel free to chime in on this whole Jupiter in Pisces bit! My understanding is super surface level!!

~~~~

That was a big boi and now my thumbs hurt real bad. Hope you were entertained by the chaos.

[mm2305]

What Ethan & Olivia AU is this? #OpenHeartAU

An eventful encounter

Pairing : Ethan Ramsey x Olivia Valentine || Rating/Genre : Teen+/romance, general || Warnings / Words : none / 2.8k ||Setting : Alternate Universe - Regency Era || Disclaimer : all characters and pictures belong to the rightful owners

Summary : During one of her trips in town, Olivia meets the newly-arrived Dr. Ramsey.

A/N : Let me start by saying that this has been in my inbox for almost a month and I'm so sorry for the long wait. Secondly, this was something completely new to me, since it's set in a different time and universe, but still very fun to write! No beta, so all mistakes are mine. I really hope this comes out good enough :)

Enjoy!

My masterlist

-/-

Somewhere in the England of 1816

Olivia's pov

"Oh come on you little bugger", a young woman sighed exasperated, looking at her reflection in the vanity. She had been trying for the last twenty minutes to gather her long hair with some pins, but it was difficult to contain all of it in them. Finally, she got ready and rushed down the stairs of her home, Edenbrook Manor.

"Mrs Clarke? Where are you?"

"I am in the kitchens Miss Olivia!", the other woman replied.

Olivia followed the stairwell leading to the kitchen and greeted Mrs Clarke, one of the people who worked in her home. She was more than that to her though, since she was the one who practically raised her, her friend and closest confidant. Her father, Ernest Valentine, was a merchant, quite known for his successful business, but was away from home most of the year, coming only a few weeks at a time. Therefore, her mother, Anne Valentine, was left to manage most of the affairs regarding the estate and surrounding grounds they owned. Both did love her dearly, they just didn't have time for her. Since she had no siblings, she was left with no one's company but Mrs Clarke's ,who in her and her family's eyes had become a member of the Valentine family too.

"Do you need anything else from the market Mrs Clarke?"

"No Miss, that's everything we need. Are you sure you want to go, though ?"

Having grown up close to her, Olivia was always helping around the house in whatever ways she could, even though she wasn't expected or needed to do so. Of course, she didn't neglect her occasional music , embroidery and drawing lessons, even though her true passion was biology, anatomy and science. In another world she imagined herself being a doctor, but since that wasn't possible, she just made the best of the situation at home, doing many things to pass her time.

"Of course! It will be a great chance for me to get some fresh air since I have not been out for a while. I promise I will be careful."

"Alright dear. Then you had better go now, it's quite a walk to the market.Who knows, you may meet somebody worth going to a ball with today."

"Not likely Mrs Clarke. And besides, you know I have high standards."

With a slight wave to Mrs Clarke, Olivia took her basket and headed out of the Manor.

----------

After a long, refreshing walk, Olivia reached the local food market. Rows upon rows of products had filled the sides of the road, the smell of flowers, herbs and fresh fruit invading her senses. People moved at their own pace, some slow and others faster, with baskets of their own at hand and doing their shopping. The whole street seemed to have come alive on that warm, autumn afternoon, creating a charming, quaint picture.

In just a few minutes she had gathered everything she needed, her basket full of herbs, vegetables and fruit. Ready to go home, she turned around, towards the end of the market, not noticing the tall man coming her way and colliding with him, the force knocking her down on the ground.

"I am so sorry sir, I did not mean --"

"Forgive me Miss I --", they both started apologizing at the same time. Olivia noticed she was still on the ground and the stranger offered his hand and carefully helped her back on her feet.

Finally looking up at him, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

The stranger was the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. He was tall with a strong physique. His hair was a dark mahogany brown color, just visible in his hat, leading to his piercing, ocean blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline with high cheekbones and she was sure that his smile would be just as beautiful as the rest of his face.

His warm hand was still holding hers, the gesture sending sparks through her body. The man, noticing he was still holding her hand, cleared his throat and dropped it gently.

"I am deeply sorry, Miss. I hope you are not hurt.", he said in a deep yet gentle voice.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?"

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is all mine. Oh! You dropped your basket!". He immediately bent down to gather the scattered apples, pears and whatever else could be saved.

"Please allow me, you need not do this…", she also kneeled beside him to gather the items, her hand going to catch an apple at the same time as Mr. Ramsey,their fingers briefly touching. They both locked eyes again, the movement making Olivia's cheeks redden in color. Did he feel that too? Looking away from his eyes for the sake of modesty and back at her now half full basket, she realized that she had to start making her way back home soon, if she wanted to make it before dinner. With a small sigh, she got up and dusted her dress,more than a little disappointed that she hadn't had the time to learn anything about Mr. Ramsey.

"Thank you once more Mr Ramsey. I sincerely apologize for falling onto you. If you'll excuse me, I need to return back home. I wish you a pleasant afternoon. ", she smiled softly at him and curtsied briefly before turning her back to him and starting walking. Hmm… I have never seen him before in town. Maybe Mrs. Clarke knows something about him. She decided she would ask Mrs. Clarke for more information when she reached home. Alas, she had not made it three feet away when Olivia heard him coming behind her.

" Ms. Valentine? "

" Yes? ", Olivia turned around curiously looking at him.

" Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he asked with a hint of a smile on his face.

He really is handsome, she thought wordlessly. Was this her chance to get to know the mysterious man better? Was this a chance for a new friendship to bloom? Maybe something more? "Stop getting ahead of yourself Olivia. You just met this man! He may even be married!", The little voice in her mind warned her, but her heart, full of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, had already decided.

" I would love to"

------------------------------

Ethan's pov

Ethan was absentmindedly walking across the stone paved streets of the town he had just moved in. Or rather, his new residence was close to this town. Instead of taking his horse, he decided to take a walk from his house to the town, to get a feeling of orientation around this new place. Being prepared and feeling in control, made him feel more confident in himself, particularly since he was not good at social interactions. Being a man of solitude and always focused on his work, made him unwilling to make any meaningless acquaintances, the frivolous events he was often invited to, being of no essence to him. It was because of his work that he decided to move here.

Immersed in his thoughts as he was, he didn't notice the young lady that accidentally ran directly into him. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground, Ethan immediately apologizing and offering his hand to help her back up.

When the young woman looked up at him, he was left speechless.

This lady, whoever she was, was easily the most beautiful woman he had encountered in all the thirty years of his life. She had golden, blond hair that seemed softer than the most expensive silk and a spotless, alabaster skin. Her big, forest green eyes seemed to be able to see right through his soul and her rosy, full lips were in perfect harmony with her features. She was quite shorter than him, her head just reaching his shoulder and he could guess, even through the many layers of clothing, that she had a lean, feminine frame.

Her hand was soft and small in his and that's when he noticed he was still holding it. Clearing his throat to collect himself, he apologized again to her.

"I am alright, thank you for your assistance Mr..?", she asked him, her voice sounding like the most beautiful of melodies.

"Ramsey. Ethan Ramsey. And you are?"

"Olivia Valentine, sir, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Where have I heard that name from though? Catching himself being so entranced in this lady he just met, he allowed his eyes to wander away from her, when he noticed her basket, previously full of products, now scattered on the ground. He set down to gather whatever could be saved, knowing he must seem like a fool for doing what a gentleman would never probably do. All his thoughts flew out of the window, when he felt that spark again from both their fingers closing around an apple. Olivia's cheeks turned in a color close to the apple she was holding, making her seem even more beautiful than before. What is it that has me totally mesmerized by this woman?

To his great displeasure, their brief encounter would have to be cut short, since she had to return back to her house. Wishing him farewell, she began walking away but before he fully thought about what he was about to ask, his feet were carrying him towards her.

"Ms Valentine?"

She turned around, clearly wondering what he wanted to ask from her. "Yes?"

Taking a deep breath he gathered the courage to ask her what he wanted. "Would you allow me to walk you back to your house? I… -he staggered even though he never did before, looking for a reason to convince not only her but himself too as to why he was doing this for someone he just met - It's the least I could do for you after our eventful encounter", he added with a small smile.

For a few seconds that really seemed to stretch into hours, he could see the wheels in her mind turning, before she looked up at him and said the words he so much had come to want to hear.

"I would love to"

--------------

Olivia's pov

Ethan offered her his arm to take and Olivia weaved hers through it, her hand settled at the crook of his arm.

They began walking and for a few minutes no one said anything, a somewhat awkward silence setting over them. Neither of them seemed sure as to what they should say to break the ice. Finally Ethan, with a small cough, began talking to her.

"Do you live far from town, Miss Valentine?"

"My home, Edenbrook Manor, is about an hour and a half away from here."

"Oh! I actually bought a residence that is, apparently, close to your house."

"So you are the new doctor who bought Kenmore Park!"

"Indeed, I am"

"May I ask what made you choose to come here? I have the feeling you have been offered better and perhaps more, financially speaking, beneficial positions in bigger towns or cities."

He didn't hesitate to answer. "I was offered a position in this hospital and I was instantly aware that here, I could be more useful since there are not many doctors willing to work in a more rural area. Besides, I had missed the countryside. Has my arrival become such a popular issue here? ", he raised an eyebrow teasingly.

"Yes and no, Dr. Ramsey." she put emphasis on the Doctor, teasing him back too.

Ethan lowered his eyes, seeming a little sheepish. "Ah well… I could not find it in my heart to correct you, Miss. I am sorry."

Olivia chuckled, waving her hand dismissively. "You do not need to worry about it, I assure you."

"You see, this is a relatively small town and it is rare that something new happens. People have the tendency to talk. Or rather gossip, if I am being honest. But I actually learnt about you, from my maid, Mrs Clarke. I do not really get out of the house a lot."

"May I ask why?", Mr. Ramsey asked. Then as if considering how indiscreet he must seem, he sucked in a breath and turned to her. "I am sorry, Miss Valentine, it was not my place to ask."

For some reason, Olivia found herself not minding. Normally, she would not be interested in having a conversation with a man, knowing that at her age every move was scrutinized by potential suitors. That is why she remained unmarried at the age of four and twenty, much to society's disappointment. She just could not bind herself to a loveless marriage of interest. However, with Ethan, talking was easy and she felt surprisingly comfortable with this man she only met an hour ago.

"Well. I remain unmarried at the age of four and twenty and people like I said before, tend to talk. I find myself uninterested in what they say but it does make everyday life easier, since I do not have to hear my parents and Mrs Clarke trying to convince me to attend balls at every chance.", she rolled her eyes with what she felt was loving exasperation.

"I honestly could not imagine a woman such as yourself not being asked for her hand in marriage", Dr. Ramsey said, his face carefully neutral at her admission.

"It is not that I have not received any proposals, but it is I who refuses. My father is quite successful at his profession and those suitors were clearly interested in my family's wealth, not me."

"Then yours was a wise decision to make, if you allow me to say this, Miss."

Nodding silently, Olivia contemplated asking the question that had been in her mind ever since they began their walk. Oh just do it already Olivia. Before she could think further about it, she blurted out her question.

" How about you, Dr. Ramsey? Is there a wife waiting for you at home?"

"No, actually. Much like your case, I have no interest in people not caring about the important things in a marriage. That is not to say I stand against the institution. But, there has not been the right person in my life, so far."

A small, imperceptible smile graced her lips at his answer.

"I assume you are quite taken with your job, no? Since you moved to a different area, just because you want to help here…", Olivia changed the topic after a moment, her tone more cheerful and her heart longing to hear how life as a physician is.

"Indeed I am. Of course I owe all the skills I have acquired, to my mentor, Dr. Naveen Banerji head of Solomon's Hospital in London and professor at --"

"Edinburgh Medical School.",she finished with something that could only be described as wonder in her eyes.

" But how do you know?", he turned to her, surprised that she had heard of Naveen.

Olivia's eyes lowered to the ground, knowing that what she was about to say, would make him laugh at her.

"I… I study biology, anatomy and science whenever I can. I know it is something impossible for a woman in our times, but if I had the chance, I would love to take a proper apprenticeship and become a physician. Naturally, I cannot help but be informed about everything surrounding the medical world. And Dr. Banerji is one of the best doctors in the country. "

When she reluctantly looked back into the eyes that seemed to call for her, she saw an emotion similar to admiration in them. What for, she could not understand , but it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter excitedly.

" Miss Valentine, I've known you for just about two hours and yet, I can confidently say that your intelligence would make you an excellent physician. Please, do not hesitate to ask me anything if you have questions, it would be my pleasure to answer them for you.", Ethan assured her, his voice sincere and the opposite of what she expected to hear.

Olivia's face lightened up at that and she started excitedly asking him several questions, for the rest of the way to her house. It had been a long time since she had met someone not dismissing her love for medicine and even longer since she sincerely enjoyed talking to another person besides her family.

"Maybe this could finally really be the start of something worth exploring", they both thought, grinning happily for the rest of the way back, perfectly content in each other's company.

-/-

A/N : if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading!

Tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed and if you want to be moved to another category) :

Perma (all edits and fics) : @romewritingshop @codykosuckmytoe @sophxwithers @actuallybored @potionsprefect @ethansramsey @crystalwillow @gryffindordaughterofathena @kiara-36 @mrsethanfreakingramsey @writer-ish @panda9584 @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @queencarb @shanzay44 @nikki-2406 @starryeyedrookie @coffeeheartaddict @schnitzelbutterfingers @mysticaurathings @starrystarrytrouble @lsvdw-blog @izzyourresidentlawyer @silma-words @stygianflood @headoverheelsforramsey @maurine07 @natureblooms24 @a-crepusculo

Fics : @alina-yol-ramsey // Regency era fics : @princess-geek

[fangirling-allday]

Omg you’re amazing and I love you.

Can you write a Luke imagine where they’re dating in 2020 (reader is Julie’s best friend) and she introduces him to more country music?

(If you don’t know any country music that’s fine you can do folk or pop music you’d want him to learn💕)

Aww, I love you too!! 😘🥰

I love this idea thank you so much for requesting!!

I Want Crazy

Pairing- Luke Patterson x reader

Warnings- maybe like one swear word

Word Count- 1257

Summary- Julie’s best friend is in love with Luke Patterson and country music. But Luke hates it. The reader will comes up with a plan to make Luke enjoy it.

A/N- Did I search through Charlie’s playlist to find a country song, yes. Am I ashamed no I am not. Hope you guys enjoyed!

- - -

Dating a ghost isn’t ideal. However, you wouldn’t want to be dating anyone else.

Luke was like a breath of fresh air. No matter the day you were having, his cuddles would make everything seem alright.

Many nights consisted of just you two in the garage, cuddling as some music played in the background. However, it always seemed to be his favorite music over and over again. One night you were done and wanted to show Luke your music. Even though you loved his music and you shared almost the same taste, a conversation with Reggie earlier that day sparked an idea.

“Hey, y/n would you want a country album from Julie and the Phantoms?” Reggie’s voice pulled you out of your phone.

“Hmmm, I would love to listen to a country album by you guys.” You hadn’t really told anyone, but country music was your favorite genre. Sure, a lot of it was about beer and tractors, but there was also a lot of great songs with an amazing story. You also periodically loved the ones about backroads and tractors.

“No, no, no. Y/n don’t encourage him. We will not do a country album.”

“I don’t know babe, I think you should really circle back on that idea someday.”

“See, she gets it. Just because you have this biased hatred for country music doesn’t mean we should let the rest of the world suffer.” Reggie rambled on, and you just shook your head and laughed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Let’s just get back to rehearing.” Luke have a small pout as he tried to get everyone back on topic.

“Awww, have we hit a soft spot?” Julie asked, prying to get more out of him.

“Trust is Julie, Luke just doesn’t want anything to do with country music, not matter how hard Reggie tries.” Alex said, pointed his drum sticks to Luke.

Oh really? As the band started rehearsing again, you started to plan a way to get Luke into country, and you weren’t going to give up, even if it’s the last thing you do.

That night, as you layer your head on Luke’s chest, with your hands playing with his hair and the distant sound of a soft rock song that you couldn’t quite name played in the background, you quickly pulled out your phone.

As you scrolled through your Spotify, you tried to look for the perfect song to play. Finally finding the one, you clicked it and the sounds of a guitar filled the air.

“What? What’s this song?” Luke was confused. This definitely wasn’t the rock that he had requested you to play.

“Well, you always said that you wanted to broaden your music choice, so I thought that tonight would be perfect.” You looked into his eyes and gave him a wide smile.

After a few more moments of him listening to the lyrics, his eyes widened.

“No. Is this country?”

You giggled. “Yes and you are going to listen to it.”

“Y/n you know that I don’t like it.”

“Is there and actual reason for that hatred, or are you just being stubborn? Besides, I love country, and as my boyfriend you are legally forced to listen to it. And as your significant other I am legally forced to make sure you enjoy it.”

He scoffed but didn’t argue anymore. When that song ended you put on another.

Humming the opening lyrics, you caught Luke’s attention. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched you quietly sing along. However, when the chorus came, quiet flew out the window.

“Yeah, I wanna feel the sunshine

Shining down on me and you

When you put your arms around me

You let me know there nothing in this world I can’t do.”

As you sang, you got up and started dancing around the garage.

Luke sat up and watched as you sang and danced. A smile lighting up his face.

As the final hook came, you walked slowly up to Luke.

“I wanna love somebody like you

Love somebody like you

I’m ready to love somebody

Love somebody like you.”

You knelt in front of him, and gently grabbed his face in between his hands. Your eyes looked down at his lips then back to his eyes.

“And I wanna love somebody

Love somebody like you.”

Your voice trailed off as Luke leant closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips met.

It was a soft and sweet kiss, but no matter how many times Luke Patterson kissed you, you still felt heat rise to your cheeks and butterflies fill your stomach.

Pulling away, you pecked his lips once more before finding another song.

You smiled as Hunter Hayes’ voice flooded the garage. Turning around, you made your way to Luke.

“I'm booking myself a one-way flight

I gotta see the color in your eyes

And telling myself I'm gonna be alright

Without you, baby, is a waste of time.”

You pulled Luke of the couch and started dancing with him.

You started singing along once the chorus picked up.

“But I don't want "good" and I don't want "good enough"

I want "can't sleep, can't breathe without your love"

Front porch and one more kiss

It doesn't make sense to anybody else.”

You giggled as Luke spun you around. As you faced him again, you smiled, and whispered, “Yeah, I don't want easy, I want crazy

Are you with me, baby? Let's be crazy.”

“Hell yeah.” Luke replied, then gave you another soft kiss.

As you guys danced around some more, you yawned.

“Getting tired baby?” Luke said pulling you back down to the couch.

“Mhm, just a little.” You snuggled back into his chest. You breathed in deeply though your nose, letting your senses be overwhelmed with him.

As the music continued to play, you both sunk into each other enjoying each other’s company.

Luke started humming along to whichever song that was playing through the speakers.

“See. I told you I was going to get you to enjoy country music.” You said, lifting your head up just a little to see his eyes.

Luke laughed, and shook his head, his hair falling into his eyes. Your hand brushed his hair out of the way and landed on his cheek.

“That you did, huh. Who would’ve thought.” He leant back in and gave you a slow kiss. Pulling away you rested your head back on his chest and closed your eyes.

As you started to wake back up, you heard voices.

“Wow, this is something I never expected to see.”

You slowly opened your eyes and saw that Luke was still sleeping. He looked so relaxed and calm. Turning your head back to the noise, you saw Julie standing in front of the door.

“Who would’ve thought that Luke would enjoy country music.” Julie said giving you a smile.

You laughed quietly as to not wake Luke. But as you moved to look at the girl, you heard Luke groan and his grip around your waist tightened.

“Five more minutes.” Luke slurred, still half asleep.

“No come on Luke, I wanna know what kind of sorcery y/n pulled to make you listen to country.” Julie said, clearly not worried about that fact that it was the middle of the night.

Luke’s eyes quickly opened. He looked around and noticed you looking up at him. He gave you a soft smile, before turning back to the Julie. His face turning serious.

“We aren’t speaking of this again.”

- - -

Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added!

@shellbeerocks @sunsetcurve-h @lolychu @meangirlsx @walkingonshunshine @discoverablefeelings @marinettepotterandplagg @captaintightpants58 @lukeys-giggle @itz-jas

[kaaytea]

Kuramochi Youichi x reader

Warnings: slight Sawamura slander

Summary: You are his muse, his love, his canvas.

A/n: once again pushing my art nerd Kuramochi agenda. You can't stop me, this hc will be apart of my characterization of him. Enjoy, fellow Kuramochi simps ♥️

He was being so very gentle with you.

Your hand laid in his, forearm exposed as he layered more and more color onto it's surface. His brush —old and caked with dried paint chipping off the ferrule and handle— languidly dragged over the delicate skin of your arm. The touch was feather-light, almost undetectable to your body as he continued spreading the cold paint onto you.

Art had always been Kuramochi's creative outlet; there was something so calming about sparking one’s imagination. It made him feel grounded, in control. Over time this hobby became a sort of escape; hiding in pages smudged with ink and graphite was much easier and quicker than anything else.

The acrylic smell embraced your senses in a familiar welcome as he swiped more green onto your skin, messily tapping the bright color into place. Kuramochi didn't usually work with paint much —he was far more familiar with pastels and markers than the liquidy, free form substance— but recently he'd started to branch out a bit to test his skills.

He started on scrap papers then quickly moved to more niche items like sneakers and baseballs. Painting on skin hadn't even crossed his mind until you picked up a dirty brush and drew a smiley face on the back of his hand. He was instantly intrigued with the idea and you, being your gracious self, offered to be his canvas.

You Had been watching him for about half an hour now. In that half-hour the shortstop hadn't spoken a word —apart from a few choice swears when he messed up. You watched his face scrunch up in concentration, his brows furrowed and tongue slightly poking out from the corner of his mouth.

He hated when you said it, but Kuramochi was absolutely adorable when this absorbed in something.

You unconsciously let out an amused huff while watching him, the noise prompted said boy to look up at you briefly before redirecting his attention to your arm.

"What's so funny?" He grumbled, a slight pout tugged at his lips.

"Oh nothing," you drawled. Your free hand reached up to run through his hair, which was still slightly damp from the shower he had taken after practice. You gently pushed his bangs back only to watch the strands flop down across his forehead again. "You just look really cute right now."

Kuramochi stiffened slightly at your words. He had his head down but you could tell he was blushing by how red his ears were turning. He looked up at you, but in his flustered state he stumbled over his words, "Y-you can't just say that to me while I'm trying to work!"

You laughed at him and leaned forward to press kisses onto his warm cheeks. The action made his face burn even more as he tried to wiggle away from your unprompted affections. Despite his resistance, he still pressed a firm kiss to your lips when you finished your assault on his face.

"Jokes on you because the cutest person in this room is sitting right in front of me," he huffed out as he returned to put the finishing highlights on your arm.

You hummed at his response. Should you mess with him? It would be so easy to poke fun at him right now. Maybe just a little, teasing never really hurt anyone anyways, right?

"I don't know, personally I think Sawamura has me beat in the cute category."

It felt like your body was imploding as you fought the urge to laugh, your lungs screamed for air and body shook as you held everything in. Youichi's face was absolutely priceless; a mixture of shock and mild disgust twisted his features.

"I'm sorry but did you just call Bakamura cute?" Kuramochi's brain was malfunctioning. You just called the boy that annoys half the team daily and who is currently passed out on his bunk snoring cute.

"C'mon Youichi," You laughed, finally letting everything bubble over with a hearty slap to his knee. "He's like a little puppy!"

"Yeah, a jumpy, un-house-trained puppy."

You blinked owlishly at his hunched form, no longer entranced by the graceful tracing of the brush against your arm.

"Mochi did you just imply that if Sawamura was a dog he wouldn't be house-trained?"

"Yes I fucking did," he said, looking up At you briefly, "are you opposed to that statement?"

"I mea-"

A loud snore cut off your response. The two of you looked up at the boy half falling out of his bunk with drool slipping from the corner of his mouth, before turning back to each other. It seemed as though Sawamura had answered Kuramochi's question for you.

"I take back what I previously said."

"Good," Mochi leaned back from your arm and placed his brushes into the dirty water cup on the floor next to him, the wood clinked sharply against the glass as the brushes swiveled into their resting place.

"Finished?" You asked.

The boy nodded before reaching his arms up into a full-body stretch, looking akin to a house cat after a long nap. A soft groan rumbled from him as he rid himself of his sore back and shoulders.

Your attention drifted from your boyfriend to his artwork splayed across your arm. Your eyes were met with an even blend of greens and brown as they trailed over the painting. It started at your palm, a bountiful and bright tree intricately traced over your skin, the plant’s trunk extended down and broke into roots at your wrist —roots that were following the same path you knew your veins happened to make.

"Trees are supposed to represent life and veins carry blood. Get it? Lifeblood?" Kuramochi watched you expectantly as he explained his inspiration. A short snort of amusement was what he got in return.

"Yes you're absolutely hilarious —and incredibly talented," you whispered the latter part as you pressed —what was supposed to be— a chaste kiss onto his lips. Kuramochi had other plans as he pulled you into his lap and deepened the kiss, but pulled away before it could get too heated.

"You know you'll always be prettier than anything I could ever paint," he whispered in between the small pecks he was placing across your cheeks. It wasn't a rare event for the shortstop to be so affectionate; you had him wrapped around your finger and he knew exactly that.

"If the team ever found out how sappy you actually are they would roast you alive," you quipped.

"It's a good thing they'll never find out then," he responded, bumping his nose against yours before sealing his response with a final kiss.